The Strangest Things
by sarahofearth
Summary: AUish. Ian and Riley are oddly enough working together to find Ben and Abi after the couple’s mysterious kidnapping. Read as a new relationship grows and shocking revelations are made. No Slash. Final chapter up. Reviews appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, hey, it's me again, crazily-obsessed-with-anything-and-everything-Riley Girl (try putting that on a shirt, ha, ha). Anyways, yep, I'm back with a new story. This time it involves Ian. I noticed there wasn't much interaction between these two characters (besides the negative stuff) so I decided (with a little help from DownwiththeSupernatural for the character pairing idea) to do them in a positive way, yay.

I hope you guys like it; tell me if you do… Or don't!

Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure, or the characters. But I do own my thoughts. Oh wait, crap! I sold those on EBay for twenty bucks yesterday.

You Should Know: It's been two years since the treasure was discovered.

XxxxXXXxxxX

"Are you kidding me? The Shaolin Monks could kick anybody's butt any day!" Riley's voice reasoned proudly. Ben shot back with a long, thought out retort. The two were bantering away on the phone about one of the rare subjects of video games. It certainly was an unusual topic for the two men since they were found more commonly discussing the latest discovered artifact or Abi and Ben's future. Ben was relieved to be talking with his best friend, if even for a short while. He loved his new wife and the honeymoon they were spending in Egypt, but he found himself missing the young man more and more as each day passed.

"So, you have about two more weeks in the desert?" Riley asked after he received a particularly brutal verbal bashing on his Mortal Kombat character.

"It's Egypt, Riley, not the Sahara." Ben pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah," Riley said distractedly. He was driving his baby, Ben could tell easily over the phone. Riley always seemed a bit more tense and unfocused when driving his sleek red Ferrari. The young man needed to stop worrying about scratches from nonexistent branches so much.

"Yes, we have about a couple more weeks," Ben affirmed, taking a drink out of his smoothie. At the moment, he was sitting in a comfortable chair by the pool. Abi was still up in the hotel room, getting ready to jump in with him. "What've you been up to?"

"Meh, nothing much. I'll tell you what has been up though, this weirdo car besides me. It's like trying to race or something, but it gets way too close for comfort, you know?"

"Riley, I think you're just getting paranoid about scratches on your red top again," Ben said with a smile. He smiled faltered a little at the sound Riley made. "What going on?" he asked.

"This silver car; it just made a U-turn and now it's heading right-" Ben heard a loud thunk. Shattered glass, tires screeching away, and then another thunk was all that could be heard. Ben eyes glazed over in a panic.

"Riley? RILEY!" Ben called into his phone. Abi had just stepped across the length of the tan walkway to see the pale, worried expression on her husband's face.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She asked, looking into his eyes. Ben still had the phone to his ear, but he answered her nonetheless.

"I think Riley's been hurt. I think it was intentional too." Ben explained in a rush. More worried filled his eyes at the sound of his words. How could this be happening? Why would somebody want to hurt Riley? He was harmless. Ben knew one thing for sure though: he had to call somebody. If he wasn't there to help Riley, he had to get somebody in that hospital as soon as possible who could.

After calling his friend's name a few more times, Ben quit and hung up. He immediately opened up his contacts page with a click of a button on his cell phone.

"What are you doing? Is Riley going to be okay?" Abi looked on the verge of tears now. Ben felt sympathetic.

"I'm just trying to get a hold of some one who can help Riley since we're not there." He said, clicking the down button on his phone, scrolling through possible assistants. The person had to be strong and brave, willing to help under these heated circumstances. They also had to be smart, full of ways to help Riley and provide excellent investigative skills. Ben clicked through name after name. He paused at one in particular though. He gave it an apprehensive glance before quickly pressing "talk." Inside of him, he knew he was looking for this name all along; he supposed he was just _skeptical_ from experiences.

A few rings later somebody picked up. He inhaled deeply.

"Hi… I need your help."

xxxXXXxxx

Riley stirred at the touch on his forehead; he immediately regretted coming back to the world of consciousness though as a pounding pain in his head came along with it. He tried to grasp at his the pulsing ache but his arms seemed to have been stuck to something. _What the heck was going on here?_ He thought irritated. The young man opened his eyes blearily, the room was dimly lit, which Riley found relieving. He looked down at himself and gaped for a long time. He was in the _hospital_! There were numerous cords attached to him, which made him squirm. He could barely handle seeing the IVs in Ben when he went, now the little cords were forced into him? The very thought made the young man shudder.

"Are you cold?" A smooth, British-accented voice asked.

"No, I was just-Holy crap!" Riley's eyes widened at he looked at the man beside him. His blonde hair was shorter, but that didn't matter, he still looked exactly the same. "I-Ian?"

The older man smiled, "Glad you remembered."

Riley suddenly sat up and started searching frantically for the nurse's call button on his bed.

Ian held the object at the younger man's eye level.

"Are you looking for this?" Ian said in a quiet voice that made Riley quiver slightly. He blinked slowly at the object. Why was Ian holding so many nurse call buttons? When did he get so many hands? "Riley, why are you blinking so bloody weird?"

Riley felt dizzy beyond belief but he knew he had to stay up to ensure his safety from the evil British man who tried to kill him once. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He wouldn't be able to operate normally with this enormous dizzy spell and the throbbing in his head wasn't helping the situation either. He grasped at his head, his hands able to reach it now that he was propped up.

A memory seemed to have made its way back to him, causing a flood of others. He remembered a car, making an illegal U-Turn, coming straight at him and then… blackness. It was all so clear to him in an instant. He was shaking now but he didn't notice. This revelation brought new and terrible thoughts too his head. Was he all right? Did the people who did this to him get away or were they hurt too? Why had this happened? Was this plotted?

"Riley, calm down." Ian instructed firmly.

Riley opened his eyes slowly and glared to his side at the older man. Why was _he_ telling _him_ what to do? Riley didn't even know why the heck he was there in the first place!

"No, shut up." Riley said, surprising Ian and himself. He had never been the firm type; he could joke his way out of anything and that's just what he did, for as long as Ian had known him. This was different though and all his earlier personality traits were lost as things began to grow serious. "I have questions, Ian, and I need answers."

Ian nodded perceptively and sat down in a chair, staring intently into Riley's eyes.

"I know that you must feel confused right now, scared even, but your questions will have to wait. At the moment, I'm checking you out of the hospital and you're coming home with me. I-"

"Like hell I am!" Riley interrupted loudly, looking at the man like he was insane (which is just what Riley thought he was). "Ian, need I remind you, you tried to _kill_ me many times before, so you'll have to excuse my distrust, but I am _not_ going with you."

"Ben said you would be like this," Ian muttered, rubbing his eyes. This statement brought Riley to immediate attention.

"W-wait… Ben knows that I'm in the hospital? How?" Riley asked, staring earnestly at Ian now.

"Apparently he was on the phone with you when you got into the accident. You don't remember?" Ian asked, a hint of worry in his last sentence.

"My head hurts a little is all," Riley mumbled distractedly, obviously more interested in the Ben topic. "Why would he call you then?"

"Ben has very generously hired me to watch you." Ian said. "He's under the impression that this act of brutality is somehow purposeful."

Riley gave Ian a very skeptical look.

"You're not very good at hiding your uncertainty," Ian chuckled. "I know what you're thinking though 'Why would I volunteer to watch you?' Well, believe it or not, Ben and I have been in communication for sometime now since I got out of jail. I was bitter at first but I've grown to realize that my ways back then were cynical. I really do believe I've learned my lesson. Anyways, I'm doing this because I know it to be the right thing. I feel I owe it to Ben for all the stuff I put him through. I can put you in contact with Ben the moment we get home but none of that can happen unless you start to trust me."

Riley listened to the little speech fixedly.

"What if you're lying?" Riley asked after a few minutes of hesitation.

"I'm not lie-"

What if you _are_ though?"

Ian sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Would a gun make you shut up?"

Riley's eyes brightened at the statement.

"I'm kidding. You're arm is broken in three places, you wouldn't be able to hold it anyway."

Riley looked down at his arm, noticing for the first time that it was indeed in a sling. He frowned.

"I guess I have no choice then." He said, exhaling noisily. "The second we get to your place though, I call Ben."

"Of course." Ian said; he walked composedly outside the small hospital room to see how the departure process was going.

Riley looked after him, wondering the whole time how he could have been reunited with his would-be-murderer. The world was a cruel, sick place. He laid himself gently back onto the pillows. His head still hurt and aching pain seemed to be radiating from his neck as well. _It must've been quite a crash… _Riley thought, closing his eyes for some rest only to immediately open them again. _My baby!_

XxxxXXxxxX

Ian shrugged his suit jacket on coolly as a less orderly Riley struggled to wheel himself through the elevator doors. It was understandable seeing as one of his _arms_ was in a sling.

"I could help you, you know?" Ian pointed out, getting impatient with all of the young man's stubbornness.

"And have you push the chair into the nearest fountain? No thanks, I, for one, choose life." Riley said, finally getting the chair through the doors. "Stupid hospital policy." He mumbled. After about two more minutes of exertion on Riley's part, Ian took hold of the chair's handles and began driving it towards the front desk, ignoring the protests given by a certain young man.

"Yes, hello," Ian said after being greeted by the kind-faced receptionist. "A doctor sent me down here to receive the prescription for a Mr. Riley Poole."

"Riley Poole, Riley Poole…" She checked her computer and after not finding it there looked through a small card catalog beside her. "Ah, here it is. Yes, let me get that. It'll just be a moment." She walked off into another room marked "Authorized Personnel Only." Ian waited patiently and let his eyes trail down to Riley's in-need-of-a-haircut head. The young man sat in the chair, rubbing his fingers over the bandages wrapped around his unbroken arm which covered a long, deep cut. He looked ready to peel the top part off when Ian's voice startled him.

"Don't even try it, Riley."

_I'll look at it when I go to the bathroom _Riley thought as if to reassure himself that Ian wasn't entirely in control.

"Look at it even when you're not in my presence and I'll know. That gauze is holding in a lot of blood and you'd do well not to loosen it." Ian said, once again reading Riley's thoughts. It was starting to creep the younger man out. He dropped his broken arm against his chest where it hang idly.

The lady entered the room once again with a slip in one hand. She handed Ian the paper, had him sign a few things, and then he left, giving her one last nod. Ian wheeled Riley through the doors of the hospital and, as expected, the younger man quickly jumped out.

Ian rolled his eyes as Riley began his "Thank God I'm not a cripple" rant, as if Ian was actually listening. Although it was quite overcast outside, the older man placed his sunglasses on as they stepped through the second set of hospital doors. Riley followed Ian to his pearl-white Escalade and, after a few attempts because of the vehicle's height, made it in.

"You know your car is starting to rival the heights of mountains now, right?" Riley said, settling in his seat.

Ian graced him with a small smile before starting the engine. "Seatbelts." He announced. "Wouldn't want another concussion now, would you?"

Riley rolled his eyes as he clicked belt into place. His head started to hurt again at the mention of the concussion so he laid it on its side into the leather headrest.

"Are you all right?" Ian asked, noticing Riley's sitting position as he backed out of the lot.

"I think I've just been kidnapped by my former would-be killer. How do _you_ think I feel?" That was what Riley wanted to say but settled with a less patronizing

"My head hurts..." It really did too. The throbbing had settled on a numb pressure underneath that made Riley feel as if his brain would splatter all over Ian's nice, clean dashboard any moment.

"Well, I'm heading to the pharmacy for your prescription; it should feel better after you take the pills." Ian said, making a right out of the intersection. Riley turned around and picked up the slip of paper Ian had gotten from the receptionist. "Firoicet" it read along the line where medicine was prescribed. He had never heard of the medicine; Riley assumed it was a type of aspirin. He hoped it wouldn't make him act too tipsy.

They arrived at a Walgreen's thirty minutes later and Ian killed the engine once they were parked.

"Do you need to get something?" he asked, turning to the young man who had his head laid back in an odd angle, eyes closed.

_A toothbrush, silverware, and cup… Just to be on the safe side when we get to your place._ Riley thought to himself. He opened his eyes and nodded. He didn't now what he needed but looking in the store at things sounded more appealing then sitting in the car.

They exited the car and stepped through the sliding doors of the store. The inside was quite bright in contrast to the gray skies outside. This made Riley cringe as a pain shot through his head. It was being so sensitive to light lately. Ian, the ever analytic, noticed this but decided not to say anything.

"Get what you need; I'll go get your medicine." He walked off in the other direction towards the back, leaving Riley to stare at the selection of makeup that was set up in the front. A woman gave him a confused expression as she passed. Riley noticed and snapped out of his daze. He wasn't looking at the concealer; he was trying to get his swimming head under control.

Riley strolled through the many aisles, looking for anything he might need on his who-knew-how-long stay with Ian. He spotted the older man waiting in the assigned area for the prescription to be filled, flipping through a torn up magazine, and voted to turn the other way.

He found a basket carrier when he turned around and decided to pick it up, even though he had no clue what he was getting. He just looked less weird with one in his hands.

He continued to scan the aisles, dropping random, interesting items in his basket. So far he had a Snickers bar, a stuffed rat (since the Halloween season was coming soon), a bottle of bubbles, some chap stick, and a Washington DC magnet. Ian found him just as he was about to drop an alien notebook in his basket; he was carrying two more rolls of gauze and the prescription bag, which he dropped in with Riley's things

He took the basket from Riley, not noticing the odd assortment of items in there. Riley followed him to the checkout.

Ian handed the items to the lady as she scanned them and placed them in the bag. He gave Riley questioning looks at the strange objects, but decided to just leave it at that.

Riley noted Ian had put the Snickers bar back on the shelf, which made him a little irritated. He picked up the bar again and went to hand it to the lady only to get it taken back and placed on the shelf.

"It'll only make you feel worse." Ian admonished, taking out his wallet.

Riley growled; all this sudden caring about his well-being was starting to bug him. This guy definitely never cared about him when he was pointing the gun to his face. Riley thought many more nasty thoughts about the man as he paid for the things. He handed the bag to Riley when they were finished and started heading for the door.

Riley glared at the back of his head the whole way. They were going outside... Maybe this could be his change to run away. He started to quickly formulate a plan as they neared the exit. _There's a trashcan I could throw down if Ian decided to chase me and there's also a lady walking towards the bus stop…-Oof_.

Riley hadn't noticed while he was staring out the window the makeup display in the front. He knocked his leg against it, causing all the makeup to clatter to the floor. Ian stopped in mid-step out the door to Riley, carrying the bag in his un-slung hand, staring down at all the makeup at his feet. He looked up sheepishly a little red in the face.

"Um… Oops?"

The woman from the checkout walked over.

"Clean it up or pay for it." She said bluntly before walking away back to her register to read a magazine.

Ian sighed, rubbing a hand over one of his eyes. How did he get into this mess? Riley began to place the makeup onto the display case again, and Ian kneeled down to help him. They finished up in a short while and got up, dusting themselves off.

"Stop daydreaming so much, Poole," Ian said after the task was finished. He roughly grabbed the bag from Riley and made his way back to the car. The escape plan flashed in the younger man's head at the harshness but gave up on the plan since he was positive that something would go wrong... (also the girl at the bus stop was gone)

XxxXXXxxX

They were back on the road again, driving down the familiar street to Ben and Abbie's house.

"Where are we going?" Riley asked; his eyes were closed again since the light was still nagging him. How he wished he could be in a dark silent room.

"Ben and Abigail's. You need some stuff, don't you?" Ian asked. Riley began to answer but was interrupted by the unfamiliar ring of a cell phone. Ian flipped open a sleek black phone. "Hello." A beat "He's on his way now? …Hmmm, this is a problem..." Ian sighed. "Well, tell him I'm going to be there as soon as I can; give him my apologies… Okay then, I'll be there as soon as possible. Bye."

Ian closed the phone and let out a frustrated groan. One of his most high-ranking patrons was waiting at his house and he was clear across town babysitting a very difficult and disobliging young man.

"He said eight, the indecisive wanker." Ian said, becoming irritated. "Riley, you will hurry up when we get there. You only bring items that you absolutely _need_; none of this stuffed animal and candy bar rubbish. I have food at my home, just take some clothes. If you waste my time, you'll wear what you have on for your entire stay; any amount of whining about this will go on deaf ears. You'll do well to pack light the very moment we get there. Do you understand?"

Riley, knowing full well another rant would come on if he didn't respond in Ian's favor, nodded.

"All right, geez…"

The pearl white Escalade arrived at the nice, brick house and the two men exited quickly, leaving the engine running. Ian gave Riley impatient sighs and words the entire time he was throwing the large piles of clothes into his duffle bag.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Riley said for the millionth time after another one of Ian's annoyed looks. He zipped up his exploding-with-clothing bag and tried lifting it off the bed with much difficulty. Ian rolled his eyes and snatched the bag from him with his right hand as his left hand pushed Riley out his bedroom door.

On their way down the stairs, Riley picked up a resting orange ball of fur. Ian raised his eyebrow but it wasn't until he got in his car and realized that it was a cat that Riley had brought along with him did he explode.

"Riley Poole, remove that flea bag from this car immediately." Ian said in a menacing tone. "I don't have time for this, just put it on the floor outside; I'm sure it can find its way back in."

"What? No." Riley objected, holding the cat closer. "Abi said it was my responsibility to feed and take care of Sunny and I am not going to have it fur and bones when she comes back just because _you_ don't love it." Riley said, giving him a resolute nod.

Ian shook his head in disbelief that he was actually having a pet in his car. He knew he could easily injure Riley into the next millennium but he decided to let him have this one, for once.

He backed out of the driveway and sped onto the highway towards his house.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Most of the ride there was a blur to Riley as Ian was driving like a complete maniac. The young man had to remind him countless times that he had been in enough car accidents for one week but Ian continued to accelerate at every word. Riley chose to shut up at this realization of speeding and because he was scared speechless.

Ian slowed down considerably when they arrived in a very nice, wealthy-looking neighborhood. Riley had never been to Ian's place before but he knew by the large checks he had sponsored Ben with that he was quite prosperous.

A two-story, white house with gray roofing came into view. Ian typed in a code at the black gates and quickly sped his vehicle through them. He let out a small curse word when he saw a crimson convertible in front.

Ian quickly parked the car and turned off the engine.

"Riley, your room is on the second floor two doors down on the right. Unpack your stuff and a maid should tell you when dinner's ready." Ian said quickly, hurriedly fixing his hair in the rear view mirror. "Don't do anything stupid." He finished off sternly as he exited the vehicle and walked fast-paced towards the entrance doors of his home.

Riley sat there in silence, not really remembering what Ian had just told him. He was busy admiring the large house, wondering what Ian was so anxious about, if Abi and Ben were all right, and when he was going to eat. He sighed in frustration at his active brain. Why couldn't it shut up so he could listen to important instructions?

Riley exhaled nosily, picking up the sleeping cat from his lap. He opened the door of the car and slowly stepped out, trying not to wake the feline. Sunny was always sleeping, it was reasonable since when she was awake she was crazy and hyper as ever. Riley didn't think he had ever seen a cat as wildly manic as Sunny. He had grown to like the orange tabby though. It liked to cuddle and play with shoestrings which Riley couldn't help but smile at.

Riley started his short trek to the house and quietly opened the door. To the right was a set of elaborate French doors. Riley could hear the recognizable voice of Ian on the other side along with a few other unrecognizable ones, all male. He went to get nearer to hear what they were speaking of but noticed he was being watched by a stiff-looking butler-type-guy behind him.

"Um, hi, I'm just going to… Use the bathroom." Riley said all too quickly, walking the other way, trying to escape the man's critical gaze.

_Where is my stupid room?_ Riley thought to himself. Sunny had woken up now and was struggling to escape his arms. Riley struggled with it for a few moments before releasing it. The cat sprinted down one of the halls but, since Riley knew it would be near impossible to get Sunny back, he let it go and continued to search for his room.

He had found the kitchen, which was just as good, in his opinion. But, upon entering the swinging silver doors, he found two chefs hard at work, stirring soups and frying things on the stove. They looked rushed and only gave Riley a quick glance before continuing their work. The young many felt a bit out of place and silently backed out of the room.

The living room was less crowded but a lot more boring. It was well furnished and very clean but Riley found all of it a bit much and had to shade his eyes from the flowery everything.

He walked into the next room which appeared to be a guest bathroom. It was just as boring as the last room except it had a toilet. Riley decided to take a quick bathroom break before continuing the search for his room. When he exited, he let out a small yelp of surprise. Ian stood just outside the entrance, looking slightly surprised himself to see Riley departing from the guest bathroom.

"Riley, what are you doing down here?" Ian interrogated quickly at the same time leading Riley by the bicep up the stairs.

Riley gave the older man a confused expression. What was Ian's deal? Why was he acting so strangely about him using the bathroom? Was it some sacred burial bathroom where Ian hid all the people he murdered and cremated? _Oh my god, did I just piss on old ladies and innocent children? _"Give them a proper burial next time!"

Ian shook his head like Riley was an alien (which wasn't exactly far from what Ian actually thought of him as). He snapped out of it and continued.

"Riley, you do realize that if you had been spotted by any of the men in that room, I would be forced to kill you, right?"

The young man's eyes widened in shock.

"Um-well-that's certainly news to me…" Riley said meekly.

"I'm expected back there at any moment. I don't need them getting anymore suspicious so just go to your room and don't leave until Margie comes to get you." Ian said, turning to leave. Riley stopped him on his arm and Ian turned around. "Yes?"

"Um…" Riley gave a timid sort of look.

"Riley, I don't have time for this. Go."

"That's the problem." Riley finally confessed. "I wasn't exactly listening when you told me the directions."

Ian sighed exasperatedly and grabbed Riley by the arm once again. He led him down the center hall into the second door on the right.

"You can get your things later tonight for now, just… play with your stupid cat." Ian said, exiting the room. A thought in his head whispered _Where's the cat? _ButIan only shuddered in response before coolly making his way back to his business associates.

XxxxXXxxxX

Riley ripped out yet another page from a blue, hardback book entitled _Political Science_ on its spine. Riley had been waiting in the room for what seemed like an hour. He was hungry as ever and he could feel another massive migraine coming on with each passing origami crane… Well, attempted origami crane. It was difficult to fold anything with your arm in a sling. Once again, the young man crumbled the paper and threw it on the floor. Riley wasn't sure yet if Ian would kill him for doing so or not. He didn't care much though. Ian looked about ready to kill him with everything he did.

The migraine came in full force after the last paper-folding effort and Riley forced himself onto the flowery bedspread. _What's Ian's deal with all the girly decorating? _Riley pondered, as he blew at a flower which was sewn to the pillow he was laying on. He laid there for a long time, trying to distract himself from all the painful pressure in his head. He found relief when he finally fell asleep only to be woken up again ten minutes after to a girl's voice.

"Riley, sir, it's time for dinner." She said when the young man finally stirred and looked at her.

"Ugh, my head hurts, I feel like I'm going to barf…" Riley said, burying his head back into the pillows. The room's faint light was bugging the heck out of him.

"I'll go get Mr. Howe." She said, leaving before Riley could protest.

Ian entered shortly after with a pill bottle and a glass of water in hand. He set them both on the side table and stared at Riley. He looked as if he was trying to suffocate himself in the pillows.

"Get up, Riley, take the medicine. It'll make you feel better and then you can eat." Ian said, turning to leave only to stop in his tracks at the sight of an orange tabby staring curiously at him in front of the doorway.

Riley had finished swallowing the water and pills and was now letting it soothe away the pain. Oh, how he loved this medication… He hoped it wasn't supposed to be addictive or anything. He opened his eyes after most of the throbbing receded. He saw Ian getting his legs rubbed over with orange fur.

"This thing better not leave any stupid hairs on this suit," he said, picking the cat up from the floor.

"Don't hurt it." Riley objected.

"I'm not going to hurt it. Calm down." Ian said, petting the cat behind the ears. "I'm actually quite fond of pets. They're just a bit dirty, that's one of the main reasons I don't have one. But having you around is evidently no difference, so there's no harm done." Ian finished, casting a small, amused smile at the pile of papers on the floor near the desk.

Riley scowled at the comment. He wasn't a "pet" and he definitely wasn't that messy.

"By the way, if I see any one of my books treated like the way you did that one, I will hurt you. I'm not kidding." Ian said, a serious expression on his face as he petted the purring Sunny.

Riley gulped quietly at the threat. _Note_ _to self: Origami is not that important_.

The two made their way down the stairs into the comfortably furnished dining room. The food on the table was less easy on the eyes though. The dishes looked slimy and slightly scary to Riley. He sat down in a chair on the right while Ian took a seat at the head of the plate-laden table.

"So…" Riley began, giving uneasy looks at the food. "What is this stuff?"

"It's edible, so you will eat it." Ian said, serving himself with a dish of brown balls covered in green sauce. He noticed Riley's grossed out expressions at his acts. "Riley, you haven't eaten all day…"

"Is that my fault? You took my candy bar!"

"That's beside the point." Ian sighed. "You've just been in a car accident; food along with a good night's rest will help you recover."

"Yes, food, not… British poop balls."

"Riley, no vulgar language at the table please." Ian said, beginning to lose his appetite.

"Can I call Ben?" Riley asked, trying to change the subject.

"No, eat." Ian said simply, taking a bite of his meal.

"You said at the hospital that as soon as we got to your place I could do that." Riley reminded rudely. "I've been here for almost three hours and I haven't got the chance to ask any questions or make any phone calls."

Ian rubbed at his temple. Riley was a headache.

"Very well…"

He flipped out his cell phone and dialed Ben's hotel room number. He was surprised to hear an unfamiliar and accented voice greet him.

"Hello, I'm Ian Howe, is, um, Ben available?"

The lady on the other line clicked her tongue, making Ian furrow his eyebrows.

"You haven't heard de news yet?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I live in America."

"I see. Well, speaking to Mista Gates would be impossible den."

"I'm sorry?"

"Mista Gates and his wife have been kidnapped."

A/N: Yep, yep, that is the first chapter. I'm already in the works of the second but I could really use some encouragement to help me along, if you catch my drift .:raises eyebrows repatedly:. If you don't catch my drift, I mean review… Please and thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, Riley's arm isn't broken anymore. Let's just say it never was. It just got too hard to remember that he only had one arm in use yet he was holding like fifty different things at once in the last chapter, ha, ha. Thank you for bearing!

A/N: Oh, yes, I'm sorry for the wait. I had to take like five minutes a day just to write this chapter, it was annoying. It was very stop and go.

Ian must have shown quite an unusual expression in response to the news because Riley's face became very puzzled. He shut his gaping mouth and spoke.

"That's-that's certainly abnormal. Have you found anything?"

"We have officers investigating de room right now. I'm sorry; but dat is all I can tell you over de phone."

Ian sighed in aggravation.

"I understand. Thank you."

"Goodbye, Mista Howe…" (A/N: Does anybody even know what an Egyptian person's accent sounds like? Me:".:shrug:.")

Ian heard the dial tone but didn't want to remove the phone from his ear; Ian knew Riley was going to bombard him with questions the moment he did. He slowly flipped closed his phone and looked gravely at Riley's perplexed expression.

"What's wrong? Why can't I talk to Ben?" Riley asked quickly. He was becoming increasingly suspicious of Ian.

"Riley… Ben and Abi, they've been…"

"What? What's happened?"

"They've been kidnapped." Ian said rapidly. He couldn't bring himself to stall any longer…

Riley's expression went through a process of shock to utter confusion with a tinge of anger.

"Who did it?"

"They couldn't relay that information over the phone to me, I'm sorry…"

Riley looked down at his untouched plate. He knew what he did next was immature but he did it anyway. He ran. He got up from the table and bolted for the front doors all in one swift move. Ian was right on his tail from the beginning, always expecting the most irrational move from the younger man.

Riley made it to the front gates which he would have found as quite the achievement if not for his current situation.

Ian slowed down his run and turned it into a steady pace towards Riley. The young man turned around quickly, he had tears welled in his eyes.

"Riley, they'll find Abi and Ben; there's no sense in getting so worked up over all of this." Ian said reassuringly, stepping closer.

"What happens if they don't find them, Ian?" Riley asked, a tear making its way down his face. "What happens if they hurt them or kill them?"

"Riley, they won't get hurt."

"How do you know!" Riley cried. "Nothing stopped them from deliberately crashing into my car! What's going to stop them now?"

There was a short silence as thunder rolled in the background. It was raining a lot lately.

"Me." Ian said firmly. Riley looked up at the man with a blank expression. "I promise you, Riley; the people who are doing this will not harm a hair on Abi nor Ben's head."

The man said it with such confidence, Riley almost believed him fully for a moment. Riley wiped his face off with his sleeve. He felt embarrassed for getting upset in front of one of his sworn enemies. He sniffed.

"Ugh, gods, Riley, use a handkerchief or something." Ian said, finally getting fed up with Riley's "how-to-stop-sniveling" process. "Let's get inside. It looks like we're getting some rain."

Riley walked ruefully up the steps into the house. This day proved to be one of his worst. Abi and Ben were missing and he was halfway across the world, and being stuck with Ian didn't make matters anymore comforting.

"There's still food-"

"I'm not hungry." Riley interrupted dully, climbing the elegant staircase. He really wasn't. The news had taken all desire for food away from him. He made his way to his room where he closed the door with a quiet thud.

Ian sighed on the floor level. Why did Riley have to be so complicated sometimes? Ian knew the young man wasn't a teenager but he acted very similar to one most of the time. His rashness and pure obstinacy were hard to get past sometimes.

Ian sighed; he still had work ahead of him and he was feeling pretty drained with Riley. The news of Abi and Ben's disappearance didn't seem to make matters any better. He sighed again at the thought and went to his office to work.

XxxxXXXXxxxX

Riley rested his head on the wooden table, breathing heavily.

"Riley, sit up. There's syrup on the table from the last guests."

Riley just groaned in response. Ian had considerately decided that it would be best if they just got in the car and went to an IHOP due to Riley's frank attitude towards last night's meal.

"You wouldn't be so weak from hunger if you had just eaten something from last night's dinner." Ian said again as their waitress approached with some menus.

"If you had just stocked your refrigerator with something edible then maybe I wouldn't be-"

"Here are you menus," the waitress said, forcing Riley to sit up in midsentence. The two men took the menus and opened them. Riley squinted at it, moving it closer and farther from his line of vision. He got Ian's attention when he knocked it into the older man's menu.

"What are you doing?" Ian asked, putting his menu down and looking at Riley quizzically.

"I can't read this without my glasses,"

"Where are your glasses then?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe in a little place called my house," Riley said sarcastically, "which, need I remind you, you rushed me out of after about two seconds since I stepped in it."

"We'll go there on our way back then," Ian said with a wave of his hand, getting annoyed at Riley's whining. "What do you usually order from IHOP?"

"Ummm," Riley scratched his head for a moment. "I haven't eaten here in a while. I think I like pancakes."

"You think?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I haven't eaten here in a long time," Riley defended quickly.

Ian just rolled his eyes and picked up his menu again. He scrolled through the entrees and randomly picked one for the young man.

"Just get this breakfast dish, but you'll have to eat it quickly," Ian said.

"Ugh, what now? Why does everything have to take like two minutes with you?" Riley said, laying his head back on the table, caring little about any syrup that might get in his hair.

"You want to find Ben and Abi, do you not?"

Riley raised his head in interest.

XxxxXXXXxxxX

Two hours later, Riley found himself in the airport, his trusty laptop and glasses in stow. Ian walked over and handed him a ticket. Riley opened the little slip of paper slowly as the other man went to make more preparations. "Destination: Egypt," It read.

It was going to be a long trip….

Riley tripped over the rung in the doorway leading to the airplane, knocking one of Ian's lackeys in the shoulder with his head.

Phillip turned around, staring menacingly down at Riley who was getting up from the floor. He clenched a fist as if to hit him but Ian, who was in front of him, grasped his shoulder warningly.

"Let him go," Ian said, trying not to start a scene. The man wasn't entirely sure if he would've let Phillip hit Riley if it were under different circumstances, say, in the parking lot, or at his house. He shrugged, not really caring, and continued his search for his seat number.

Riley stared wearily at his unfortunate seat number, consciously noticing the blonde hair that sat next to it. He groaned inwardly. Why him?

Riley carefully placed his carryon items in the top compartment and heavily plopped down in the seat besides Ian.

"Why the long face?" Ian said, obviously not really interested as he flipped a page in his car magazine.

"Nothing." _Except for the fact that I'm stuck in a plane with a psycho again! _Riley tried to get as comfortable as possible without touching Ian.

"Hello, thank you for riding Egypt Air," a friendly female voice said over the intercom. "Follow the signals on the overhead light panel and have a nice trip." There was a click and the others resumed talking quietly and getting situated on the craft.

XxxxXXXxxxX

The light for removing your seatbelt glowed brightly to the relief of Riley. Although the device was supposed to keep you safe, Riley always found it annoying and it made him feel pinned down. He took a deep breath once he unclicked it and rested his head back into the head cushion.

Ian was listening to music or something of the nature, Riley wasn't positive.

"What're we going to do when we get there?"

Ian glanced at him, realizing that Riley had asked a question. He removed the headphone and replied.

"Excuse me?"

Riley repeated the question.

"You mean what are _we,_ as in my team and myself, going to do." Ian said, causing Riley to look at him in confusion. "You are going to stay in the hotel the entire time."

"What!" Riley blurted loudly, causing a few people to stare at him. He gave a sheepish grin and turned back to Ian, talking in a lower tone. "What are you talking about? Why can't I help too?"

"Riley, somebody in Egypt has a bone to pick with the three of you. That person or persons thinks you're dead; we shouldn't right him by having you walk around alive and well. He'll capture you and then we'll be more stuck as ever."

Riley sighed, reluctantly realizing that Ian was right. The very thought made his blood boil though. He tightened his jaw, trying to formulate a way to find Ben and Abi without Ian knowing.

"Stop making it obvious that you're trying to come up with a plan to get past me, Riley." Ian said with a smile, placing his headphones back on. "Why do you think I brought two of my lackeys? It definitely wasn't for pleasure…" He finished, knowing Riley would catch his drift entirely.

Riley sat back in his chair a scowl on his face, wishing earnestly the man sitting next to him didn't have inhuman probes for eyes on the side of his head.

The rest of the ride there was uneventful. Riley finally drifted off to sleep after about two hours of trying to stay awake in case Ian got some psycho murdering ideas. When he woke up he found that he had another throbbing headache which, Riley reasoned, wasn't as bad as having one of his kidneys removed while he was sleeping by Ian.

Ian placed a cup of tablets and another cup filled with water on the tray in front of the young man.

"Take these; they're not as strong as your original prescription but they'll have to do until we get off the plane."

"Which will be…?"

"About another three hours."

"Danggit, I thought I had at least slept through the whole trip." Riley groaned. He quickly downed the water and medicine that sat in front of him. Some twenty minutes later, the pain subsided slightly, proving that, once again, Ian had been right: the pills sucked.

Riley laid an elbow on the tray in front of him and placed his aching forehead into it. Concussions were the biggest pain.

"Sit up; I'm going to stretch my legs." Ian instructed.

_Correction,_ Riley thought, glaring up at the man as he passed, _Bossy British guys were._

Riley tried to go to sleep but it was near impossible now. He didn't know why, but a growing sense of dread had loomed over him. _The planes going to crash; I can feel it. I now it's like a one in a billion chance, but what happens if we're that one billionth? Ah, I'm too young to die! _Riley was startled out of his hyperventilating when Ian laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. Riley looked up instantaneously, his bright blue eyes filled with surprise.

"Why are you rocking back and forth, muttering something about painful, fiery deaths?" Ian said, quirking an eyebrow. Riley just responded with a sheepish grin and put his head to turn a few shades darker. Ian passed him to sit down in his original seat. "Don't look, but there's a man at six o'clock whose been tailing us since we left that café this morning."

Riley went to check who he was talking about but a sudden sharp jab to his ribs stopped him in the process.

"Ah!" Riley said, grasping the injured ribs Ian had elbowed. "What did you do that for?" Riley whispered quickly, turning to face him with an angry, pained expression.

"Well, you obviously didn't hear me when I said 'Don't look.'" Ian pointed out. "If the man knows we've identified him, there could be some violent and unwanted consequences. We're on a plane full of innocent people, Riley, we don't want to drag them into this."

Riley sighed. Why was this guy always right? He was a lot like Ben in some instances. Telling him what to do, correcting him, showing him up. Riley felt a tad more comfortable with Ben doing it though because the man was a bit like his boss since he had originally hired him from his crappy desk job. Riley could barely handle it with Ian though. One, the guy tried to kill him, two, the guy tried to kill him, and three… The guy tried to kill him. Riley reasoned that was _more_ than enough grounds to be bitter and reluctant to follow orders.

Riley's heart was pounding now as he was given more time to think about the situation. He was stuck, on a plane, in the _air, _with one of the lackeys that had put him in a car accident. Was it possible that the man was a suicide bomber and he had come to finish the job on him? Riley gulped loudly causing Ian to stare.

"He wouldn't do anything impetuous, Riley, we're on a plane."

"That makes it all the more worse though!" Riley whisper-screamed.

"This man obviously wants to keep his life though, we don't have anything to worry about… until we get to Egypt that is." Ian closed his eyes and rested his head back into his seat. Riley just stared at him in bewilderment. How could he be so calm when they could be in mortal danger in a few minutes? Riley tried to refrain from hyperventilating as the plane flew steadily toward its destination. _I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. _The chant soothed him slightly but a thought would pop into his head that made the mantra harder to believe. _I think I'll leave my laptop to my neighbor and my dog ashes to my pen pal Misty._ Riley tried to appear as calm as possible but he was sure everybody in the plane could see the sweat that had beaded on his neck.

"God, Riley, quit fidgeting. Just try to go to sleep." Ian said, opening his eyes that held a hint of frustration in them. Riley nodded, closing his eyes and laying his head against the window. After a few moments of preoccupying his mind with random, peculiar thoughts, he finally got to sleep.

XxxxXXXxxxX

"Riley, wake up." There was a sharp flick to his head, regaining the young man to groggy awareness.

"Ow…" Riley said, rubbing the spot where he was rudely tapped. "Why couldn't you just shake me awake like every other human being?" Riley asked, opening his eyes to stare at Ian, who seemed to be blatantly ignoring him as he looked back in his seat.

"I can't find the man." Ian muttered.

"What? You mean he left? Wait, we're already here?" Riley said, all the while looking around wildly. There were several people still getting up and stretching; a few were already removing their carryon bags.

"Shh, keep your voice down." Ian said unusually quiet.

"Why?" Riley asked, looking around paranoid. "Are their microphones or something in the plane?"

"No… It just gives me a headache." Ian said simply, causing Riley to scowl. "C'mon, let's just get off the plane and get to the hotel. I have a good idea where the man is off to anyway."

Riley looked interested but knew better to ask in the public airline. Ian got up and retrieved their bags from the overhead compartment. He handed Riley his green laptop/messenger bag while he took down his simple black-brown briefcase. They exited the airplane down the steps after being acknowledged by the pretty stewardess.

They met up with Phillip and Lou at the entrance. They had already reclaimed the bags so the four hailed a cab and were off.

The ride to the lodge was relatively quiet. Ian was busy making plans with his minions, as Riley liked to call them, while the young man stared out the darkly tinted windows of the taxi, staring at the glorious scenery and city that is Egypt.

The taxi pulled up to the towering, fancy hotel. Riley gawked at the building in awe. Sure he had stayed at many nice places, but he'd never seen "Egypt-nice" places. The inside was just as majestic with its extravagant furniture and royal ceilings. Riley found himself lost in it all and a few minutes later figured out he was actually lost, having no sight of Ian or his lackeys. He tried to remain calm as his eyes searched the assortment of people filing in through the doors. He finally spotted him at the reception desk, signing papers and nodding. He walked over casually as if nothing had happened. Ian glanced at him, giving him one of his all-knowing looks that made him want to throttle the man.

Ian placed down the pen and smiled at the woman behind the desk. She handed him the key cards to the room and told him that the bellboy would take their bags upstairs. Ian nodded at the lady and led the way to their rooms.

The room was massive, in Riley's opinion. It had a kitchen, bathroom, and five lavishly decorated bedrooms. Riley whistled low at the space and view outside. Ian tipped the bellboy as they walked in and set their bags on the floor and counter.

Riley claimed a room to the side and set his laptop on the bed while settling himself on it too; the bed was very soft and plush. He could hardly wait to crash into it and get a decent rest. He looked around the brightly lit room, there was a closet guarded by a wooden sliding door at one side and a white vanity on the other. He wouldn't use it for looking much, mostly for a place to put his laptop. He wanted to start doing research on Abi and Ben's case. There had to be something the people weren't telling them and with Riley's expert hacking skills, such information could be pretty easy to come by.

Ian came in, knocking Riley out of his reverie. He held a roll of gauze in one hand and a cell phone which he was talking into in the other.

"Yes…. Sure… I'll be stopping by later tonight then." While saying this into the phone he cocked his head at Riley and motioned him over into the bathroom. Riley reluctantly got off the bed and sat on the toilet seat in the, of course, nicely embellished restroom.

Ian flipped closed his phone and walked into the restroom. He washed his hands before taking ahold of Riley's arm. Riley struggle to pull it back but Ian held a constant grip.

"I'm just going to change the bandage." Ian said truthfully, beginning to roll up one of Riley's sleeves.

"I think I can do it myself." Riley said, pushing the dark green sleeve down with his free arm.

"Ha, ha, that would be a funny sight. But I'm afraid I don't have time for your little games, Riley, I have to start on what I came here to do. The longer you stall me the longer Ben and Abi are in danger. Now stay still and shut up."

Riley felt a pang of guilt at the words. He let his arm go slack in the man's hold, having no feeling to resist anymore. God, did this guy take some sort of negotiation class? Riley was pretty sure the hungriest cannibal in the world would somehow be stopped at one of Ian's speeches.

Ian located the end of the long band of gauze on Riley's arm and began to peel it off, revealing a long, deep cut. Riley wanted to barf at what he was seeing. How could such a long, grotesque cut not hurt? And why did nobody get him stitches?

"You've gotten painkillers injected into the nerves of this arm," Ian said, reading his mind. "You didn't get any stitches because it hasn't been thoroughly cleaned yet. They didn't want to risk sewing in some glass in your arm, it could lead to a bad case of blood poisoning."

Riley gulped. That was a scary thought…

Ian cleaned off the blood that was matted to Riley's pale arm.

"God, you should get a tan, Poole… Like mine." Riley glared at him but it quickly turned into a grimace as a sudden pain swept into his arm.

"You did that on purpose!" Riley accused after saying a few minor curses.

Ian just gave a small, smug smile as he finished up cleaning, throwing the bloodied rag into the light marble sink. He wrapped Riley's arm tightly with the brown gauze.

"Okay, I believe that's it." Ian said pulling Riley's sleeve down. Riley scratched the part where Ian had touched him. Eww… "Just don't touch it and you should be okay for a few more days."

Riley walked out of the room, mumbling the quietest "Thanks" to the man as he washed his hands once again.

The young man made his way back to his bedroom where he fell heavily onto his bed. He could overhear the conversation between the two lackeys outside but only when they mentioned Ben's name did his ears perk up.

"So, Ian's going to track that one guy from the plane down and find out where he leads us to?" Phillip's deep voice asked, slightly muffled through the wall. Riley stepped closer towards his door to hear the conversation from a better angle.

"I placed a tracking device on one of his bags so Ian and I could follow his trail." Lou answered proudly.

"Aww, why am I stuck babysitting the nerdball?" Phillip whined.

"'Cause I have the PDA that holds the data of the device." Lou replied proudly.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to keep myself entertained with that sweet little foreign lady downstairs. You know, the one who gave us the towels?"

"Ha, ha," Lou laughed in agreement. "You better not let Ian find out. He wants you to 'watch Riley like a hawk.'"

"Yeah, yeah." Phillip replied.

A few moments later Riley could hear Lou's voice again.

"What's he up to anyway?" Lou asked, food evidently being chewed while doing so.

Phillip sighed and got up from the nice couch.

"I'll go check." He said reluctantly as if the muscular man was about to perform one of the most laborious tasks in the world.

Riley hurriedly crashed into his bed at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching on the wooden floor. He feigned sleep at the sound of the door creaking open slightly.

"He's just sleeping." Phillip said after a moment of bad inspection. He went back to his place on the couch, leaving the door agape.

A new voice entered Riley's mental image of the conversation as Ian stepped into the room.

"Okay, we have to go." Ian said, a hint of urgency in his voice. "I just got a lead on the man from the airport; it could help us find Abi and Ben. You have the tracking device?"

The question was directed at Lou who nodded, holding up the PDA from the counter.

"Let's go then." Ian said. Two pairs of footsteps started making their way from the exit after a small amount of rustling. "Phillip, don't let Riley out of your sight."

"Yes sir." Phillip said, bitterness coating his reply.

The door opened and shut quickly and Riley could hear Phillip picking up a phone. He became disinterested at that point, his mind only reeling on Ian's statement about the lead on the man from the airport. Why couldn't Riley come with him? All of this was Ian's stupid plot to get Riley out of the way. Riley was smart; he could be a lot of help on the case. Ian didn't realize it though; he thought he was just some clumsy idiot that went on chartrooms all day. Riley began to fume, fully knowing that anybody would know he was definitely not sleeping if they came in but, right then, he didn't care. He just had to get out of the room and track down the man from the airport himself. He would, of course, have to catch up with Ian, which meant he had to hurry before he got into a cab.

Riley sat up in his bed quietly, trying to figure out his escape route. Using the window would be a near impossibility on account that they were on the thirtieth floor. Riley sighed. He would be hard pressed if Phillip just let him out of the room; he started to become impatient when he heard the sounds of a knock outside.

Phillip got up from the couch and opened the front door.

"Hello, are you the hot American man that called me up?" a female's accented voice said seductively.

"I am," Phillip replied, evidently grinning.

"Your room?" she asked.

"Yep," he said. Riley could hear the two walking towards one of the rooms on the right and then a door shutting. _Hmm…_ Riley thought to himself, while grabbing his laptop bag off the bed. _Ian should really be thinking about the people he hires…_

Riley carefully tiptoed out of his room and into the hallway of the nice hotel. He knew he had to hurry so he impatiently clicked the button on the elevator before taking the emergency stairs instead.

Riley tripped on four steps and almost fell face first into a wall but he made it down the stairs and out of the room with only slight injuries. He fast-walked out the glass doors and into the hot sun of Egypt. Many people glanced at him, knowing after only a few observations that he was indeed American. Riley didn't care about that though; he quickly began his search for the two men.

Close to thirty minutes later, Riley began to lose hope. He heaved a sigh and plopped heavily down on a random, dusty porch. He placed his head in his hands and began to think of all the different places Ian may have gotten off to. It was useless though; he had never been in any of these countries before. The only thing that could pop into his head with Egypt was the museum and the pyramids and Riley thoroughly doubted that was where they could be. The door behind him opened suddenly and he got up in surprise.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know this was your porch," Riley apologized, dusting off his backside with his hand.

It was a young woman with long dark hair and soft brown eyes. She smiled and waved a hand.

"It's all right," she replied in a lightly accented voice. "You're welcome to sit here whenever you like."

Riley gave an awkward smile. He didn't think he'd take up on that offer anytime soon, but it was the thought that counted.

"You're American?" she asked, and eyebrow quirked at his dark clothing and light blue eyes.

"Is it that easy to tell?" Riley said, blushing slightly.

"Mmm," she said, nodding. "It's all right though. I like Americans, America, I'm fascinated by the culture."

Riley's thoughts quickly diverted to the crappy McDonalds on 43rd street.

"American culture? Fascinating?" Riley chuckled a little.

"What's your name?" the young woman asked.

"Umm, Riley Poole," Riley said, offering a sweaty hand. It was hot outside and he got extremely nervous around girls for some reason. Just his luck…

She shook the proffered hand and smiled.

"Zandria Holaka," she said. "So, what brings you to Egypt?"

"Umm, well, it's a long story," Riley said. "At the moment, I'm looking for… An acquaintance of mine."

"You came to Egypt with an acquaintance?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow, which Riley concluded to be a habit of hers.

"Well, I can't really see him as a friend or colleague." _Because of murdering reasons. _"We don't know each other all that well is all."

"I see," she said, nodding thoughtfully. Riley hadn't even noticed that the two of them had started walking down the dusty road. He looked back, they had made a considerable distance down it too. "I'm sorry," she said, putting her head down bashfully and blushing.

"Why?" Riley asked.

"I always walk when I talk, it's a weird thing I do. I don't think I could sit or stand in place for all the gold in Egypt," she laughed.

Riley gave a small chuckle.

"Thanks." He said suddenly.

"What for?" she asked.

"For making me feel a little more normal for a moment," Riley said.

She, once again, quirked her eyebrow at him.

"It's just… Ever since I found this treasure, my life has been so hectic. And now this whole thing," he motioned his hands in a gesture for "big." "So… Thanks."

"Umm, that didn't make any sense, but, you're welcome." She said, patting him on the back gently.

They walked for a little while more, talking about various things. Music, movies, the usual. Riley didn't think people from other countries experienced the same feelings, thoughts, and overall, life he did, but he was, to his pleasure, proven wrong.

Riley was suddenly exploded back into reality by a heavy hand on his back. He whirled around to see Ian's furious face behind him. _Uh oh…_

"Riley…" he said in a menacing tone that let Riley know he was definitely in for it.

Zandria surveyed the whole interaction. This must be Riley's acquaintance. He was American but she got some seriously heated vibes from him.

"You'll have to excuse us, Miss," Ian said. "Maybe we can talk under less tense times, but for now, we have to go."

She nodded a little stunned by the situation. It was very abrupt for her.

Ian took a firm grasp of Riley's bicep and guided him around the corner of a large building. Riley followed without resistance, too scared to do anything. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, very much hoping Ian hadn't suddenly switched to the dark side and was now going to shoot him for escaping.

The moment they were a good distance from civilization (_Oh great, no witnesses!_), Ian rounded on Riley in the most threatening manner.

"What did I say, Riley Poole!" Ian roared, causing a few birds to fly away overhead.

Riley just stood there with a slight saddened, scared expression, but it quickly turned into one of determination and anger.

"Shut up, Ian!" Riley yelled back. Now Ian was the one to be stunned. He swept a small handful of golden hair and flipped it behind his head.

"What did you say?" Ian asked dangerously, stepping closer.

Riley wasn't intimidated though.

"You never give me any chance to do anything!" Riley said accusingly. "I can do a lot more than what you think I can, but all you ever do is push me out of the way. I'm tired of it!"

"I don't care if you're tired of it, Riley! You could have jeopardized this mission! It's a good think I had Lou to distract that man or this operation would have completely failed. The man who think you are dead was just mere feet away from you while you were talking to that girl! You do remember whose live are at stake here, correct?"

Riley was about to say something but then stopped himself. He just settled on an angry glare.

"I can help you though. I want to find Ben and Abi too." Riley said a few decibels quieter.

"You're not doing anything the whole time you're here, Poole," Ian snapped. "If you could endanger the assignment by not being in it, I'd hate to see what you do when you're 'helping.'"

Riley just glared at the floor now. He had a small lump in his throat but he commanded himself not to let any tears fall over such a situation.

"I hate you." Riley said. He knew it was the most immature blow he could give but he didn't care. He really, passionately did.

"I don't care if you hate me!" Ian yelled. "Maybe it's better that way even, then you'll stay out of my way. Once my men and I get Abi and Ben back I don't care if I never see you again."

Ian's phone suddenly rang. He picked it up quickly, still sending a heated look Riley's way.

"Howe." He said shortly.

"Ian, it's Phillip,"

"Phillip? Why the heck did you not watch Riley like I demanded you to?"

"That's not important right now," came Phillip's curt reply.

"What do you mean, he just risked-"

"I've been arrested." Ian's eyes widened at the answer. "They're looking for you, Riley, and Lou as well."

A/N: Ah, yet another chapter ended with a cliffhanger over the phone, I didn't even plan it that way! Ha, ha. Right, thanks so, so much for your reviews guys. They seriously kept me going. Please do it again if you want the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Argh! I'm so, so sorry I left this story for so long. I'm having such a hectic time with school and other things all globbed together. I managed to get this thing written though which isn't completely awful. Tell me what you think!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own National Treasure (nor the sequel that's coming soon "**National Treasure 2: The Book of Fables**" Yay, Riley's in it again too!)

The sudden blare of sirens filled the air. Ian's eyes widened in abrupt fear. He snapped his phone shut and turned to the two men. Riley's face was still flushed with frustration from fighting with Ian, and Lou was just making his way over to the two.

"What's going on-?" he asked at Ian's odd demeanor.

"We have to go," Ian interrupted pressingly.

Lou nodded but Riley looked up in confusion.

"What? Why-"

"Riley, if you become even more of a liability than you already _are_, I swear I will not hesitate in knocking you unconscious and having Lou carry you the entire time. Now, shut up. We're leaving."

The parked van was not far off, but there was the bad part about it being right in the way of the incoming police officers.

"We have to make a run for it." Ian said. The three men bolted for the vehicle. Riley, not knowing what was going on or why they had to evade the police, followed suite, but the young man didn't turn into a crazed psycho ripping his way to get to the van until some shots were fired. Three inch-sized holes were left in the back door of the van Riley was just about to enter. His bright blue eyes looked at them with fear. _That was definitely a bad thing!_

Ian pushed Riley into the back of the van while he climbed into the front with his lackey. Lou brought the car to life and peeled out with a tire screech through the narrow streets of Egypt, narrowly missing small stalls and pedestrians. Riley was having difficulties getting over _almost_ _being killed _(for no reason, he might add.)

"Why the heck are they after us?!" Riley questioned loudly.

"Riley, now is not the time." Ian said, staring back not at him but through the window behind Riley.

Riley felt the familiar pang of anger hit him hard again. He had just gone through all of this _with _Ian and the man still didn't have the decency to confide in him what the heck was going on? The young man whimpered in frustration, causing Ian to avert his attention from the window to Riley who sat with his head in his hands.

"Poole, shut up." Ian said coldly. He really didn't have time for the young man's whining about not being "included." This wasn't some stupid high school clique; it was serious business! The less Riley knew about it, the safer he was.

This only made Riley angrier. He couldn't believe he had to travel all the way to Egypt with this callous jerk! He could save Ben and Abi by himself. Riley was positive Ian had made zero progress with the "mission" except to get people to _shoot at them_. Riley could do so much more with just his laptop and a cell phone it would blow Ian off his snobby English butt.

"Down that road, make a right and keep going straight. We should lose them around there." Ian ordered to Lou who nodded obediently. Riley felt sorry for the big guy. How did a guy so tall, so muscular get in the business of being bossed around by another guy maybe a head shorter than him? _Simple,_ Riley's logic said, _One acquires the brains and looks of an ape._

Riley let out a chuckle at his musings, causing Ian to avert his gaze once again. He gave Riley a wholly confused expression.

"Would you make up your mind if you're going to pout or laugh on our hostile car chase?" he asked. Riley scowled and decided to watch what was going on in the back. There were no police cars anymore, indicating that they had lost the last one. The young man could hear faint sirens in the distance so he turned back around in his seat, letting out a sigh of relief.

Close to an hour later, the three found themselves in a very shabby town outside the bustling cities of Cairo, Egypt. People stared at them in curiosity as they drove slowly through the muddy streets. Ian had been on the phone for who knew how long and Riley had fallen asleep in an awkward position on the floor of the van.

"Okay, all right," Ian said into his phone, pointing his finger simultaneously at a corner Lou was to turn at. "I'll transfer the funds for your cooperation tonight. Thanks again. Bye."

He snapped the phone shut and ordered Lou to go to the grungy brown building down a narrow alleyway. It was a big building that read "BIKE S OP" in weathered red letters on the front. Lou made his way through the alleyway, skillfully avoiding any scratches from the walls to his side. He braked and turned into a parking space to the right of the building. Lou killed the engine and got out of the car doing a quick security check of the premises.

Ian watched his worker for a moment before turning his attention to Riley who lay snoring softly on the dirty floor of the van. _How much crap did Riley plan to get in his hair before he had a chance to take a shower? _Ian shook his head and smiled faintly at the young man on the floor. He looked rather endearing sleeping so peacefully on the floor that Ian had a sudden urge to wipe the light-brown hair that was lying untidily on his forehead. Ian was starting to feel the looming guilt in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He had been thinking a lot about the fight he had just had with the young man. Ian knew he had said a lot of hateful things in his life, tons of stuff a lot worse than what he had just spit out at Riley. But none were like this. He never actually cared for any of those people. Not that he would ever admit it, but he did care about Riley. He cared if the young man was injured, sad, or… Mad at him. He had no clue why he did mind though. Riley hated him, he said it himself; then why did Ian care about him so much? Why did he agree to help him out? Why did he bother to keep him alive all those times? (No, he's NOT gay!)

Lou opened the door again and nodded to him that the coast was clear. Ian nodded back and told him to get the bags inside the place.

Ian reluctantly shook Riley awake from his slumbering. Riley groaned in response and turned over with a flop, harshly hitting his cheek on the bar that stuck out on the center console of the van.

"Ah!" Riley retaliated in pain, cupping his cheek with his hand. Ian tried to stifle a laugh but failed. It was a very funny spectacle. Riley forestalled his "pain-cursing" to cast Ian a dark glare. "I'm glad you're getting so much enjoyment out of my being injured."

"Trust me, Riley," Ian said, calming his laughter. "That is not being injured. It's hilarious."

Riley sent him another death glare before taking in his surroundings. He looked out the window at the rundown building.

"Where the heck are we?" Riley asked, turning to Ian.

"Our temporary hiding place until we get all of this stuff straightened out." Ian said.

"And by 'stuff' you mean…?"

"Now is not a good time to disclose that information to you." Ian said, turning to exit the van.

"Inside the creepy, filthy hideout then?" Riley asked hopefully; he was curious beyond belief now. He couldn't see why anyone wouldn't be when their life was involved (like his!).

"We'll see." Ian replied while closing the door to the van.

Riley glowered and grumbled at the response (if that's what you wanted to call the crappy excuse to _leave him out again_). He climbed clumsily out of the space between the front and back seats, wondering how he had possible fit in the section in the first place. He checked his cheek in the mirror where a soon-to-be dark bruise was appearing on his pale cheek. He frowned at his disheveled appearance, shrugged it off, and exited the van.

XxxxXXXxxxX

The inside of the building was surprisingly neater than the outside. Doors lined the sides of the pleasant looking lobby. It appeared to be a sort of "Hideout Hotel" as there was a receptionist talking to a burly man behind a nice-looking desk. _Probably the strangest place I'll ever step into in my life._

A hand landed on his should and Riley jumped in surprise. He turned around to see Ian with a vague smile on his face.

"'Kay, could you not scare me like that in the creepiest place in the world?" Riley said, placing a hand to his chest.

"We're in room twenty. Lou already brought the bags in. Why don't you get yourself situated while I talk to the receptionist?" It was one of those commands disguised as a question. At least Ian hadn't full out demanded him. The man was slowly learning more about Riley's stubborn attitude toward people he had no respect for. Riley nodded and grabbed the key the man held out in front of him, slightly suspicious of Ian's nicer manner towards him. What had made him change so quickly? Oh, ho, ho, Riley was _on_ to him…

The young man made his way up the plush blue carpeted stairs and scanned the white doors for the correct room number. _14... 17… 20! _He slid the key in and turned it in the lock. He opened the door and was met with one of the most beautiful sights. _Bed!_

He threw the bags containing all of Ian's stuff on the floor and flopped down on the dark blue comforter, sighing with pleasure. He was almost as happy to see this as he was to see those stairs when he discovered the treasure with Ben and Abi almost a year ago. The thought dampened his mood considerably as he thought about his two best friends. He was missing them more and more every time he thought about them. Where were they? Were they hurt? Would he ever see them again? Riley didn't like meditating on such thoughts but sometimes they were too hard to suppress.

Lou entered from the bathroom area just then, dragging Riley out of his thought. He looked less apelike now that he had a new shirt on and a clean face. Riley stared up at him but the man completely ignored the young man as he slouched into the twin bed on Riley's right. He had a Playboy in hand and was looking at it with interest when Ian entered.

"You." Ian said shortly, pointing a finger at Riley. "Off my bed."

Riley looked up quickly in indignation.

"What? Where am I supposed to sleep then?" Riley asked.

"Floor," Ian said, placing his carelessly dropped bags back on the comforter.

"No way! Why do you and Lou get a bed but I have to sleep on the floor?" Riley asked.

"Because there's only two beds?" Lou offered stupidly.

Ian and Riley cast the man on the other bed a look of perplexity before Ian turned back and answered:

"Because we're the one's who need our rest the most. People who we have to _drag_ around on our missions sleep on the floor." Ian reasoned with an air that this was the basics of spelling he was talking about. "Get of my bed, Riley."

"Augh, this is so unfair!" Riley whined immaturely as he snatched one of the pillows and placed it in between the two beds. He climbed off his short-lived treasure and into the uncomfortable mass of hard carpeting that was his new sleeping quarters.

"Nobody said you had to go to bed now." Ian pointed out to Riley who now had his face buried in the pillow.

"I'm going to sleep because I don't want to talk to your bossy butts!" Riley said through his pillow.

"Pardon?" Ian said (although he had heard him quite clearly.)

"Augh!" Riley yelled angrily at his pillows. That guy was so annoying! Riley was sure Ian was smiling at him with that smug smile he just wanted to punch off.

"I suppose you don't want to come along with me then on a mission, hm?" Riley heard Ian say. He opened his eyes into the darkness of his pillow and sat up. Did he just hear him correctly?

"What? Go on a mission?" Riley verified.

Ian nodded.

"Yeah- Yeah, sure I'll come!" Oh my god, he couldn't believe he was actually going to be able to do something. This was his chance to show Ian he could actually do something. (Not that he needed to prove anything to the man). "So… what are we doing?"

Ian slid the laptop on the bed over to Riley.

"You tell me. We have to get into that hotel to search for clues. Problem is-"

"Yes?" Riley urged expectantly. Oh my god, Ian was going to tell him something too? Riley almost smiled with giddiness but thought it might be a little unprofessional so he held it back.

"We're wanted by the police for the kidnapping of Abi and Ben." Riley's jaw dropped. WHAT?!

"WHAT?!" Riley yelled, standing up, beginning to pace the floor. "But, but, we weren't even in the country when it happened. We're they're friends. Well, I'm their friend… But- But how can we be wanted?!"

"Riley, if I knew that don't you think we might have Abi and Ben back? We've been framed, for heavens' sake." Ian said, trying to rub an oncoming headache away.

"How could they have framed us? They don't have any evidence!" Riley tried to counter although he knew it was fruitless since they _were_ already framed.

"Riley, don't be thick. You, of anybody, know what technology can do. The fact is, we're framed and we need to get inside that hotel to look for some clues to where Abi and Ben are." Ian said. "And since Phillip's been detained I have nobody to work my computer department. That's where you come in."

"Wow, I feel so needed…" Riley mumbled, sitting down on the bed and picking up his ever-so-lovely laptop. "I missed you, baby," Riley said, stroking the keyboard in a doting manner.

"Could you stop fondling your computer for one moment and do what I asked?" Ian said after looking up for a moment from his palm pilot.

Riley gave him yet another scowl before getting to work.

Riley decided to hack into something easy first to see what he was getting himself into. He placed in a decoded name and password that granted him instant access to the employee webpage that gave him information about rules and regulations hotel employees had to abide by. To Riley's dismay, on the front page of the site was a security warning with Ian, Lou, Phillip, and Riley's pictures in the middle. They were grainy pictures, taken with what seemed to be a very cheap security camera. Riley looked like a blurry, pixely blob. If you looked hard enough, maybe you would be able to make out that it was him, but, for the most part, there was a better chance you'd think it was Ian than Riley.

_Oh, c'mon, there's gotta be better pictures than that!_

Riley found none though. As he read more on the strict procedures the hotel employees were to perform on the criminals, he was glad they didn't see clearly what they looked like. Riley had never been in a jail nor did he want to go. He read more through the employee handbook, discovering that a select few were actually allowed to visit the crime scene some of which being officers, detectives, and family (as long as they checked out okay).

Ian could see the wheels turning in Riley's head as he stared fixedly at his computer screen. The young man was scrolling, reading, and gathering information at a fast rate that left Ian quite impressed. It was starting to become clear to Ian why Ben had hired the geek in the first place… He was a geek.

"I think I have a plan, Ian," Riley said finally, interrupting Ian out of his musings. "But I'm going to need you help."

XxxxXXXxxxX

"Do we have everything in order?" Ian asked from the front passenger's seat of the newly-stolen black sedan. It had been five days since they had arrived at the hideout where Ian and Riley had spent countless hours planning a way to see the crime scene where Ben and Abi had been taken.

"We just need to get in and look for clues." Riley said five days ago.

"How are we sure there even is clues?" Lou asked.

"Knowing Ben, and yes, contrary to your belief, I do know him," Ian said pointedly as Riley cast him an eyebrow raise from his place on the hotel bed. "He did leave some form of clue. I have a good eye for this type of thing so I should be able to come up with something."

Riley made a silent cough that covered up the word "conceited" but it went unnoticed by the British man.

They made sure to exhaust all their resources to get into the hotel.

"It's imperative that we don't get caught or this whole thing is blown." Ian lectured Riley one late night at the hotel. They had papers everywhere and Ian had even purchased an extra laptop from one of the criminals next door as to lessen the workload on Riley's shoulders. "Because if we're arrested that just leaves Lou on his own to save us, and we both know we can't count on that big oaf."

Riley tried to conceal the amused smile at the statement, casting a secretive glance at the muscular man that snored loudly on the bed next to Ian's.

"I heard from Laptop Man (the name Riley had come to call the stolen technology guy in the next room) that there's a man in room 32 that gives a good deal on fake IDs and such." Riley said.

"Good," Ian replied, still looking at his own computer. "Get everything. Driver's license, fake ID's, check to see if he has any birth certificates."

"What's he supposed to put on them?"

"I'll be Henry Chase and you can be Fred Chase," Ian said.

"Eww, Fred Chase? It reminds me of my gassy uncle. We called him Farting Freddy-"

"Riley,"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Riley scowled but smiled slightly. Over the past few days he had learned to get used to the older man's curt commands. Not that he would ever let Ian know that he didn't mind him bossing him around so much.

"You shut up." Riley mumbled, writing the false names down on a napkin that was thrown carelessly on the side table.

"How exactly are we supposed to be related to Abi?" Riley asked a few minutes later. Usually Ian would clench his jaw in irritation at the constant questions that seemed to flood so freely out of Riley's mouth but lately he had gotten used to it. Not that he would ever let Riley know that he found the young man's constant inquiries amusing.

Ian rolled his eyes before answering.

"I'm her brother and you're her nephew."

"Whose son am I then?" Riley asked after a moment.

"I don't know," Ian replied. "Does she have any other siblings?"

"Oh, besides you?" Riley joked. "No. Ben and she are both only-child's."

"Then I guess you're my son," Ian shrugged.

Riley sputtered on the coffee he had taken a sip of.

"Eww, I don't want to be your son!" Riley whined. "Why can't you be her father and I be her brother?"

"Pardon me, but do I really look that old to you?" Ian said, his British offended tone very clear in his statement.

Riley stayed silent, a small, coy grin on his face.

"Maybe…"

Ian sent him a death glare and punched him playfully on the arm.

"Shut up. You're the son and I'm the dad." Ian said, trying to avert his attention back to his work.

"But you don't even look like you could be my dad."

"Oh, now I look too young, do I? Could you make up your mind, Poole?" Ian pleaded.

"No? How old are you?"

"47." Ian replied quickly. What was the use of trying to be all secretive about your age anyway?

Riley looked shocked.

"You're 47? Wow… I guess you could be my dad after all."

"Why? How old are you?"

"26." Riley admitted a little shame-faced.

"Ha, 22 years your senior. I can be your father." Ian said triumphantly.

"It's nothing to be proud about being _old._" Riley said, stressing the last words as if to stab Ian in the heart with it.

Ian gave him another death glare.

"You're quite smart for your age though," Ian pointed out after a few moments of planning an escape route out of the hotel

"Yeah, I suppose it's a gift one gets from not getting many girls in high school." Riley murmured.

Ian smirked at the response and went back to work.

Two days later, the whole team was sitting in the car, parked a block away from Cairo's most extravagant hotel. Ian was going over a checklist while Lou was doing something with some transmitting device. Riley sat up straight in the back of the car wholly nervous about the whole investigation. Numerous amounts of questions flew through his head about getting caught, Abi and Ben, etc. etc. Riley jumped a little at Ian's question.

"Are you all set?" Ian asked again, this time with a slight concerned look upon his face.

Riley gulped and nodded quickly.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good," Riley managed to get out. Ian gave him a worried glance as he turned his attention back to the backpack in his lap. It held two guns, his fake ID, maps, and various other supplies. Riley had a backpack that was almost identical to Ian's except it didn't contain any weapons. Riley view on firearms was very similar to his views on prison, he never used one nor did he ever want to.

"Let's go then," Ian said after finally repeating instructions to Lou one last time.

Riley took a deep, shuddering breath and grasped his shaking hand around the van's door handle. He could do this; he could do this. He slid the heavy door open and climbed out of the van, slinging his blue messenger bag around over his shoulder.

Ian slid the van door closed behind Riley since the younger man seemed to be in somewhat of an anxious trance and wouldn't remember to.

"Sure you're okay there, Riley?" Ian asked.

Riley bit down on his lip and nodded, not wanting to scream like a little girl and rush back into the van.

"If you're sure," Ian said, giving Riley an apprehensive look and walking towards their destination. Riley took one last deep breath and followed behind Ian.

XxxxXXXxxxX

There was definitely no mistake when people told of the beauty of the Cairo Hotel. Riley almost lost thought that they were going to do something very illegal inside the place as he became immersed in the sheer beauty of the magnificent lobby. Hundreds of people of different races and size roamed around the elaborate rug that covered the span of the enormous lounge. Riley bumped into one of the guests harshly and almost dropped his messenger bag. The guest had hardly noticed but Ian sent him a foreboding glare either way.

"Watch where you're going," Ian warned. _God, he's acting as if I bumped into **him**. _

Riley simply nodded and readjusted the bag on his shoulder. They arrived at the front desk of the lobby after waiting in line after several minutes. Ian talked with the man that greeted them cordially about visiting the crime scene.

"You're Mrs. Chase's brother?" the man repeated to Ian.

"Yes, I am." Ian replied. "This is my son, Fred, and Abi's nephew."

Riley offered a small smile at the man and he nodded.

"Okay, I'll have to see some ID and then I can have one of our bellhop's take you up there."

Ian opened up his backpack and pulled out his fake ID, the whole time having Riley praying that the clerk wouldn't see the guns that lay inside with it.

"Okay, Mr. Chase. This seems to be in order. Please wait while I call some one to help you up." The man replied.

"Thank you," Ian nodded, slipping the ID back into the wallet and dropping it into his bag.

A young man with the hotel's blue and gold uniform quickly came over and escorted them to the scene. Yellow tape with bold black words across it marked the door nicely. The bellhop unstuck the yellow tape and opened the door for the two men.

"By hotel regulations, you have but only one hour to stay in this room." The bellhop instructed in an accented voice. "There will be another bellhop outside this door to alert you when your time is up and to guard the entrance if something should happen."

Ian nodded in understanding.

"Thank you." He said.

The man left quickly and shut the door with a small click behind him. Ian and Riley started to work immediately after.

"Don't put anything awfully out of place. Put your gloves on and don't leave a trace of anything behind." Ian said, repeating what he had told Riley already a thousand times.

Riley nodded in response, shoving his hand through the latex gloves. He began walking around the room. It was bigger than he had expected. It was more of a house than a hotel room actually. Riley had done much research on the subject of this particular suite but nothing prepared him for the pure majesty of it. Riley shook his head. _Gotta focus._ Where would be a place Ben would hide a clue? Nothing immediate was coming to mind and they were both were slow on time. Riley whipped out the notepad he brought along that held places where Riley should search.

"Search mirrors for any messages." It read. Riley took out a can of hairspray from his bag and walked over to the bathroom. He sprayed a light layer of the chemical over the glass but came up with nothing except a few hidden fingerprints. _Nope._

Riley flipped open his notepad again and red the second spot.

"Search the hotel brochures for any hidden ciphers." It instructed. He searched for a desk since that's where he remembered hotel's usually put those things. He found one but Ian was already sitting in front of it, rifling through what appeared to be the last pamphlet.

"Nothing, not even in that Bible." Ian said, sounding a bit disheartened. Riley nodded and flipped open the notepad. Sadly, he was meant with only one last alternative.

"Check computer for any message clues." Riley rolled his eyes at his own handwriting. That had to be the stupidest thing he could ever write on the paper. He slowly slumped over to the computer that sat on the nice wooden desk. He was praying inwardly the whole way to PC but he knew God must've been listening to music or something because the thing didn't even have power. Nobody's even been on this thing. Riley felt like crying (and ripping up his notebook). Were they really out of ways to get Ben and Abi back safely?

He stared up at the nice painting that hung over the computer. Abi would've loved it because it had two adorable children playing with sand at the beach. Abi wanted kids more than anything and lately she would point out any and all types of children that they passed with a loud "Aww, they're so precious…" A sudden thought quickly flashed in Riley's head as he stared at the painting. He quickly caught hold of it and thought about it. Hard.

Could Abi have left a message on it? It was so Da Vinci Code but since Abi loved that book and carried around one of those invisible ink pens that's what made it all the more possible.

Riley needed a dark light and fast.

He rushed over to Ian and shook him harshly.

"Ian, Ian, I need a dark light!" Riley said almost jumping up and down.

"Ow, Riley, what the?" Ian said irately. "What do you need a dark light for?"

"I think there might be a message on the painting over there." Riley said, pointing absently to the frame that hung on the wall.

Ian scoffed.

"That's so Da Vinci Code." Ian pointed out. "But it is a clever guess." Ian fished out a pen dark light out of his bag and handed it to Riley.

"Thanks," Riley said, taking it quickly and running over to the painting. Ian followed after except a little more composedly.

Riley prayed harder this time as he adjusted the pen in his hand and pressed the button on the side of the pen. He was instantly filled utter joy when glowing words appeared on the print before his eyes.

"Yes! I love Abi!" Riley yelled.

"Shh, don't want Ben to hear you say that." Ian joked, equally excited (but again more composed) about the message. "So, what's it say?"

Riley, still grinning widely, pressed the button on the side of the dark light. search Dogood." The glowing letters said in quickly scrawled letters.

"So, she wants us to do something on the _internet_?" Riley asked in disbelief.

"That's what it looks like." Ian replied, looking at the words fixedly. He raised his eyebrows quickly, obviously telling Riley to get to doing what he does best.

"I'll get my computer," Riley said hurriedly. He walked over to his bag and took out his lovely computer. He opened it up at the same time Ian sat down next to him on the bed.

He opened the internet browser and typed into the URL box The site loaded at a slow rate and Riley shook his leg in an impatient manner.

"C'mon, c'mon," he whispered. The site loaded completely, proving to have a nice layout. Riley hastily located the search box and typed in the word "dogood." It loaded faster this time with only one result.

Ian and Riley's jaws dropped simultaneously.

"Patrick Gates donates Dogood letters to Institute." The search result read, linking to some article about him.

"What does this mean then?" Ian said.

"It means Patrick has something to do with Ben and Abi's kidnapping." Riley said slowly, realization dawning on his face,

"You really think Patrick, Ben's own father, has something to do with his kidnapping?!" Ian asked, standing up quickly.

The front door suddenly swung open where a girl with long brown hair tied back in a bun and brown eyes stood stiffly, pointing a gun directly at them.

"Don't move a muscle!" She commanded. She was wearing the regulated bellhop uniform and a mean expression.

Riley's eyes widened in recognition at the girl.

"Z-Zandria?!"

XxxxXXXXxxxX

**A/N:** Sorry, guys, I left you with another cliffhanger! They're just so easy to end chapters on. Again, I'm so sorry for the long wait on the chapter, guys. Promise I won't do it again if I get a lot of reviews. Ha, ha. Thanks for all the reviews from the last chapter though! You guys rock!

**Please Press the Light Purple Button Now.**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the long wait (AGAIN!) but I've been busy. That's the only excuse you're gonna get too!

Thank you for your kind reviews, everybody, they were literally the only things keeping me going. 'Cept for those extremely short, superficial ones. i.e. "Great story. Update!" Yah, those were kinda annoying. (I'm not talking about _you_, of course, heh, heh.)

Disclaimer: Keep in mind, all characters and such are not mine but Jerry Bruckheimer's. It is my great displeasure to inform you that the only things I do own are Zandria, the henchmen, and the plot in general. Gah, I hate OC's!

On with the story….

XxxxXXXxxxX

"I said don't move a muscle!" Zandria demanded sternly as Riley raised himself from the seat of the desk. She stiffened her hold on her gun and her expression towards the two men.

Riley still stared at her shocked, his mouth was trying to form words but nothing was coming out. How was it possible the _only_ person he met in this god-forsaken country turned out to be his potential killer?! Riley was quickly trying to think up any time he might've broken a mirror or crossed paths with a black cat because this was bad luck in its nicest Sunday clothes. He shook his head miserably at his sheer misfortune.

Ian just gawked back and forth between the two young persons. Yes, he was certainly surprised to see the girl barging through the doors, poking a gun to their faces, but the fact that _Riley_ knew her? Ian could only continue to stare in disbelief.

"You've crossed the line, Mr. Howe," Zandria said, a smirk on her face and an icy layer in her eyes. "With the help of Riley here, you two have figured out our big secret."

Riley's eyes squinted in confusion. What the _heck_ was she talking about? They knew that Patrick had to do something with the kidnapping; that evidence led them only so much closer to actually finding his two friends. It could hardly be the "big secret" she was speaking of.

Two bulky men in tight black muscles shirts, cargo pants, and commando boots entered the hotel room wielding black pistols with silencers on the tips. They pointed the weapons in Riley and Ian's direction simultaneously as Zandria holstered the gun in the back of her hotel uniform's pants. She began to leisurely make her way over to the obviously more frightened man who was staring wearily at the hostile lackey across from him.

"Riley," She drawled in a seductive manner, drawing the young man's expression towards her. "We need to know all that you know. We need to know everything you've learned so far about Abi and Ben's kidnapping."

Riley, again, squinted in confusion and turned his head towards Ian who just shook his head ever so slightly in response.

Riley returned his attention to Zandria before answering:

"N-Nothing." He admitted, shaking his head. "I don't know anything."

A shot rung out suddenly and Ian collapsed to the floor with loud cry and hard thump. He was grasping at his left shoulder, eyes filled with pain and blood already streaming down his shoulder onto the light carpet. His teeth were clenched shut as short breaths tried to hide the excruciating pain the man was experiencing.

Riley's eyes filled with horror at the sudden action. The man who had just shot Ian repositioned his aim back on the man who sat in anguish for his shoulder on the floor. Riley was becoming overwhelmed and turned his attention back to Zandria.

"Why did you just-?!" He was too shocked to even finish his sentence as he hastily tried to make his way over to the moaning Ian.

"Stop right there, Poole!" Zandria spat out his name and Riley hesitated before turning to see the woman with her gun back out. "Yes, Riley, as you can see, this is more serious than what you might've originally thought. So, I'll ask you one more time; tell me all that you know."

Riley was at a loss. What was he supposed to tell her? He could tell her all that he knew, which, to him, seemed a lot more like nothing than anything else and that sort of revelation could risk Ian being shot in a few more appendages.

"I'm telling you the honest truth," Riley pleaded. "We don't know a thing about the kidnapping."

Zandria searched Riley's eyes for some sort of hint that he was lying but nothing was coming up. It was obvious that Riley cared for the man lying in a heap of pain on the floor and would do anything to keep him safe but Zandria wasn't convinced. She was sure they had discovered the whole scheme just now. They had definitely discovered _something_ but she couldn't decipher what.

Zandria dropped her gun to her side in frustration. This was not going according to plan. She was given specific orders to kill them if they knew too much and to abandon them in the desert if they knew nothing. The problem was that she couldn't decipher if they knew too much or nothing. She needed a smoke to sort things out but that would have to wait she firmly told her self, right then she needed to call the boss.

"Look," She said, calling Riley's attention back from Ian. "I'm going to make a phone call so you just sit tight with your friend there and don't try anything shifty."

Riley nodded steadily as she exited, already fishing through her pocket for her cell phone. She turned the corner while punching some numbers into her phone and walked off, out of Riley's sight, leaving him to stare fearfully at the men's weapons and Ian, who still sat in agony on the bloodied carpet.

He spotted a lone sash, probably left their previously by Abi, hanging over the chair where the unused computer sat. It seemed to be his only hope for keeping Ian alive.

"Please," Riley implored. "Can I take that sash and wrap it around his shoulder? He might go unconscious from blood loss."

Riley had watched enough hospital shows to know that wounds like that were to be kept under pressure.

The man who had his gun pointed at Riley seemed unsure about the proposition. Was he supposed to keep the blonde guy alive or was the guy supposed to bleed to death? He wasn't sure he had the stomach to watch the man die any longer so he gave a curt nod.

"But hurry up and if you reach for _anything_ else, I shoot your friend in the stomach."

Riley gulped, hoping that he wouldn't be so clumsy as to trip on a fallen weapon. Yes, that sort of thing would put the icing on his ill-fated cake.

Riley carefully walked over to the sash, hoping that he wouldn't alarm anyone. After a moment of acquiring it successfully, Riley made his way back over to Ian, who now sat on the floor with sweat beaded on his forehead in pain.

Riley knelt down, feeling particularly apprehensive on how to begin the procedure. He inquired if Ian could remove his hand from the wound first. Ian appeared not to have heard him at first, but after a pained grunt, the red-dyed hand was eradicated.

"Okay, so it looks like you were shot pretty bad in the bicep," Riley began, tensely adjusting the sash in his hand to a better spot on Ian's shoulder. He wished he hadn't been so wary of that outdoor survival class he had a chance to take in high school; he had a feeling that sort of thing would be useful right about now. "I'm just going to knot this really tight around it."

Ian nodded and closed his eyes, readying himself for the ominous hurt. Riley wished he could at least soak the sash in some alcohol before continuing but he was positive the lackeys wouldn't hand him a bottle of the stuff anytime soon. The young man tenderly began wrapping the blue sash around Ian's shoulder, pulling it tighter and tighter. Ian winced harder and harder with each wrap around; tears were threatening to fall at his eyes. Whence Riley finished at last, he let out a big breath.

"Does that feel alright?" Riley asked, knotting the sash one more time. Ian opened his eyes finally, looked at the semi-sloppy job, and gave a stiff nod.

"It's good now, thank you." Ian said.

"Okay, back over here, Mr. Nurse." The lackey said scornfully just as Zandria reentered the room. She spotted Riley leaving Ian's side and became slightly outraged.

"_What_ was he doing over there?" She grounded out to the lackeys.

"He was just tying that scarf around the wound, Zandria; it's okay." The lackey reassured, holding his aim on Riley.

"Apparently it's not okay. The boss is pretty pissed so now we have to get these two back to the hideout." She said, beginning to remove the tacky uniform she was wearing while revealing a similar outfit of her male counterparts. "Get them in the van; you know the drill."

And with that, Zandria exited in her matching black cargos and tight, short-sleeved shirt.

Riley stared at the man walking towards him in horror. He was going to do something to Riley and the young man was sure he wasn't going to like it.

"Ow." Riley managed to get out as the man thrusted the butt of his gun to Riley's head. Everything went black.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Lou sat in the red van, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was sure it was taking Ian too long now; the man was checking in with him every five minutes yet now his little walkie-talkie remained lifeless. Something was definitely wrong but there wasn't much for Lou to do. He was told to wait here but if by some stroke of misfortune, rush over with weapons ready to the entrance of the hotel. The only way he was to be able to infer some unfortunate event was by the little red light that sat idly on the dashboard of the van. It too remained lifeless though.

XxxxXXXxxxX

The van jumped again as it drove over the nasty terrain on its long journey to the "hideout." Zandria, who was perched on a box full of books in the back, scrolling through memos on her laptop, almost toppled over at this particular bump. She caught herself in time and repositioned herself correctly on top of the box again but not before casting the two large men riding shotgun a death glare.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a concussion?" She asked sardonically, huffing as she returned to her work. She wished one of the bums up front would've had the decency to sit back here on the bare van's floor and watch Ian and Riley but,_ no_, just let the _lady_ do all the work. She rolled her eyes at their terrible manners and caught sight of the heap that was her hostages lying on the floor.

The two appeared to be unconscious still because she was positive a large bout of pained moaning would be accompanying any waking up. They both were beat with the butt of guns and God knew how many more head wounds they had just acquired after the bum's horrible driving.

She cast the two men on the floor a concerned look, praying that they wouldn't wake up retarded and brain damaged after the whole journey (that case would certainly difficult things…). She shrugged nonchalantly and went back to her reading.

It was taking all of Ian's strength not to groan as he regained his consciousness. The moment he got his head on straight he immediately went to planning an escape plan, well, a lot more like a "help plan" since it was obvious there would be no such escaping in the middle of this nowhere.

Ian had to be stealthy which, yes, on regular circumstances he could pull off, but when your left shoulder has been shot, it takes several minutes of mustering up some form of courage to pull a cell phone out of your pocket and text message your lackey for help. He knew he had to act fast because, after this, there would be no other chances for the two of them to get out of this mess.

A few minutes later and Ian felt centered and ready to do the deed. At that moment, Riley's upper portion of his body was lying on top of Ian. Sure, it was uncomfortable and Riley's soft brown hair was tickling Ian's neck but it also made well for Ian to inch his hand inconspicuously towards his cell phone. His arm was moving as slow as the minute hand of a clock; Zandria would have to be quite skilled to notice anything was up. Ian could feel the denim of his slightly baggy jeans under his hand, climbing its way up to the top of the pocket of his pants. Once he arrived at the top of his pocket, he began the process of reaching his hand into it until it touched the cold, hard, savior-like device.

It was times like these that Ian regretted getting the flip open phone. Trying not to become impatient and blow the whole procedure to bits, Ian slowly flipped the cover of his phone open and felt for the flat numbers beneath it. Ian had been using cell phones since the dawn of time so it was no surprise that he could blindly text Lou an urgent message without so much as twitching his eye open. Satisfied with what he wrote, he pressed the send button and, since he in his pocket, presses the emergency "red light" button.

Ian, pleased that he did the task without any mishaps, took his hand out of his pocket, only to cringe in regret as he heard Zandria's laptop shut. _Idiot!_ _You were supposed to be subtle, Howe, subtle!_

"Stop the van, guys, I smell something foul with one of our guys." She states, inclining her head to the two men in the front. The car brakes squealed slightly as it rolls to a stop and Zandria walks over to Ian before kicking him in the leg.

"Get up, I know you're awake." She said spitefully. Ian stirred a bit and squinted as the back door of the van filtered in a large amount of light into the dimly lit van. Two hulky shadows loomed inside and the owners of the shadows pulled Ian out from under Riley and into the bright desert outside.

The men pushed Ian roughly against the door and one of them began to frisk him, pausing at his back pockets. He stuffed his hand into it harshly, pulling out a slim pack of spearmint gum.

"Zee, he's clean." The man reported.

"Tie his hands anyway." She replied from the inside of the van.

One of the men rolled his eyes as he took out some tough cord and wrapped it around Ian's wrists. He knotted it a lot better than the job Riley had done with Ian's shoulder wound and pushed the blonde back into the van. The two men shut the doors and returned to their positions in the front of the vehicle as Ian straightened himself into a better position on the hard van floor.

The van began to drive off again as usual with the only difference being the obviously conscious blonde man. Zandria stared at him over the screen of her laptop, "I'm sure you did something sneaky and I'm not going to even bother to trust you for a second" was written all over her face. Ian didn't even have to look at her; he just stared at Riley's own unconscious expression, wondering how peacefully the young man was sleeping with the cell phone and button controller stuffed into the back of his hoodie. He smirked at the memory of him hastily stashing the devices into Riley's sweater. Hopefully he wouldn't crush it when he rolled. That would be a sad waste of over 200 stored contacts.

"What are you smirking about?" Zandria asked bitterly.

"Oh, nothing." Ian replied, his voice a husky from thirst and no wear.

"Huh, that seems to be your guys' answer to everything…" she mumbled in response, typing something into her computer. She was getting pretty annoyed with it too. The boss had hired her because he thought she could get answers but Ian just wasn't giving her any. "Look, I need answers and you're going to give them to me, you got that."

She put down her laptop and took upon a more intimidating position, resting her arms on her knees and looking at Ian intensely.

"What were you hoping to accomplish in Egypt, Mr. Howe?" she began.

Ian appeared to think about this for a moment.

"I don't know; just hoping to see the sights with my friends."

Before Ian could give her a cocky smile, the woman had already hastily made her way over to him and right-hooked him hard in the side of the face. Ian grunted in response as he almost fell sideways on the floor before catching himself. After recovering from the impact fully, Ian touched his tongue to the inside of his cheek, tasting the metallic taste of blood. She wasn't a bad fighter…

"Now," she began again. "You're going to answer me straight or I'm going to punch you a lot harder and, believe me, I can." She smiled slightly at the notation, cracking her knuckles. "What have you been doing in Egypt, Mr. Howe?"

"A lot of things, what have you been doing?" he retorted hoarsely, staring up at her through his hair with a small smile.

She glared at him before winding up and punching Ian again, this time in the lower jaw.

Ian grunted upon impact and fell sideways on the floor; he groaned slightly as he picked himself up off of it and spit out the large amount of blood that flooded into his mouth.

"I'll ask you one more question before I knock you unconscious again; but if you answer it right, I might just spare you the headache: What do you know about Abi and Ben's kidnapping?"

"Go to hell." He retorted, spitting blood up on her boots.

She glared down at the red spots that stained her shoes before knocking Ian out temporarily with her fist. Once again, the world was colored black for Ian Howe as he wondered vaguely to himself if Lou had gotten the text message.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Thirty minutes after the incident with Ian's face and head, the van screeched to a slow halt, rolling up what seemed to be a gravelly road. Zandria confirmed with her associates that they had arrived at the hideout before turning round to spy her two hostages still knocked out onto the van floor.

"C'mon you two," she said, kicking them with her dirty boot as she made her way to exit the claustrophobic van. Riley groaned in response and Ian began to stir slightly at the action.

The back doors opened, flooding in what was left of the light outside the Egyptian sky.

Riley and Ian squinted at the light and continued to groan from the many aches in various parts of their bodies.

As Riley rolled over onto his back from his position on his side, he heard a nasty crunch seeming to have come from his underneath his back. His eyes widened in confusion and surprise as he got up immediately off the van floor and outside into the warm air. He shook his pale green hoodie out and found that an assortment of pieces came out of it. He couldn't make out what they were in the darkening lighting but he silently prayed they weren't_ too_ important.

Riley turned to find Ian. He spotted the man touching his head tenderly where a small trickle of blood had dried. Riley also noticed that Ian also has several more bruises and wounds on his face that Riley couldn't recall being there before. This just didn't seem to be Ian's day…

"C'mon, get walking." One of the hulky men told Riley, pushing the young man roughly forward and knocking him out of his stupor.

"Wait. The boss wants them blindfolded first." Zandria said to her comrade.

The man sighed, opening one of the pockets of his cargos and retrieving a tough strip of cloth from inside. He tied and knotted the cloth tightly over Riley's eyes, blinding the young man completely. He tested that Riley was wholly sightless by swinging a few fake punches towards the young man. When there was no flinching or yells, he gave a thumbs up to his other associate who gave one in return after he did the same test on the now-blinded Ian.

"Okay, get walking." The man ordered, nudging the apprehensive Riley again. This wasn't going to be easy. Although, it seemed putting your life in the hands of bad guys never was…

They began walking uneasily forward, silently hoping each step they took wouldn't be their last.

Riley felt them walking on the gravelly road for a short while before the man guiding him halted and did a planned knock on a steel door. The door opened and a man greeted the three of them without acknowledging Ian and Riley himself. They were being lead again, this time on what appeared to be grated metal flooring, obviously something was going on beneath it but what, the young man had yet to decipher. Moments later, they were stopped yet again whilst the man unlocked a door and opened it. After being led inside the entrance, Riley felt himself being steered in front of a chair and pushed roughly down into it. The same thing appeared to have been done to Ian too as Riley heard the man grunt when the other lackey pushed him down into the cold, metal-backed seat.

They were being tied to the chairs now, tightly, as far as Riley could tell by the pain in his bound arms. He winced as the man gave a final tug to the rope.

"You two, shut up." And with that, the two people in the room who appeared to be present stomped off with a click to the metal door.

Riley waited a little bit. He was curious if there was anybody else in the room but he was more curious as to where they were. He had to search out Ian but that would mean risking his head being bludgeoned again… Maybe he would begin with "baby steps."

The young man began to click his tongue against his teeth quietly. Nothing. It echoed in the large room but there was no sign of any footsteps coming to hit him. He began to gradually do it louder and louder and loud-

"Is somebody paying you to make such an infernal noise?" Ian implored edgily and quietly.

Riley never thought he'd be happier to hear the man's British accent echo through the room.

"Sorry," Riley replied sheepishly. "I was just wondering if you were here."

"And by 'here' you mean…?"

"I dunno," Riley admitted. "I was hoping you got a peek and could tell _me_."

"Nope, I'm afraid I didn't get a 'peek.'" A beat. "I know we're at their hideout though, which is several miles from Egypt. We might be in Libya, we might be in Sudan, heck, we might still be in Egypt. I haven't come across anybody with a discernable accent so it's too hard to tell. Everybody here seems to be American though. But that little tidbit just makes this so much more fun."

Riley sighed in annoyance.

"What do they even want with us?" Riley asked to no one in particular.

"I think I can help you with that."

Riley jumped in response which just seemed to cause him more pain in his arms. That voice. It was on the tip of his tongue. He had just connected the voice with its owner when his blindfold came off, revealing the previous speaker's face.

"Hello, Riley." Patrick Gates said gently. Riley gasped. This beat the moment he had with Zandria earlier with five times the shock. Had Ian and he been right all along? But then this meant that Abi and Ben knew that Patrick had something to do with this whole kidnapping. Riley's head was spinning.

Ian's blindfold was removed as well and he stared into the face of his and his friends' captor. No other than Patrick Gates himself-How terribly dramatic for them. Ian would have guessed over a hundred different people before finally landing at Ben's father. But here he was, in all of his secretly evil glory.

"Why do you have us here, _Gates_?" Ian inquired heatedly, trying to glare a hole through the old man's head. Patrick was dressed in his regular attire, naturally taking on the appearance of some one less cynical/

"The same reason I have Ben and Abi here," Patrick began. "Revenge."

"Wait a minute," Riley said after the latest revelation. "Ben and Abi are _here_. As in the same building we're in?" The young man would be hysterically waving his arms right about now if they weren't currently tied up behind him. He grinned in delight. Obviously he hadn't taken in account the second part of the sentence.

"Yes, they're here," Patrick continued, sending the smiling young hostage a glower. "But, they're a little_ tied up _at the moment." He chuckled at his own lame joke and Ian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That had to be ever drier than his own jibes.

"Why do you want revenge on us?" Ian asked. Riley turned and sent him a confused expression. _Revenge?_

Patrick smirked and put his hands behind his back, beginning to get into full lecture mode. Riley and Ian had their complete attention on him, awaiting his answer.

"You just don't realize how long I've been in this business. How long I've been after that treasure." He shook his head and chuckled again. "I've been after it for so long but _Ben_ ruined everything." He spat out his son's name as if it was the bitterest of poisons. "Him and his little friends." He took this moment to glare at the two men in the chairs.

Riley was appalled by this statement. How could he want revenge on his own son? It was so wrong, especially since he put on such a convincing role as a loving father.

"How could you do this do your own son?" Riley said, finally mustering up the courage to voice his awry thoughts.

"I never really felt like his father; no, my own father took that place." His voice took on a sad, dark tone as he reminisced. "I always felt a bit left out not to mention very unnerved, particularly when the two of them would talk for hours on end up in the attic about the family treasure. They were always planning some sort of excursion to find the treasure, always looking through old books to further decode some new clues. Little did those two 'partners' know that I, the guy who apparently resented the treasure, did the same thing, except, in a more sophisticated manner with a lot more minds and a lot more power in the works." He raised his head in a proud manner.

"I'm a very rich man; I used my discovery prestige to sponsor myself on my own hunt for the treasure. I started my own corporation of brilliant minds and equipment to aid in my search for the treasure. But it still silently perturbed me that my father and son might be a step ahead of me, they might get on to something that would help them find the treasure before I did, completely ruining my only glimmer of meaning in life.

"I'm an ambitious man that wanted to be remembered throughout history and that sort of thing didn't happen if you were the _son_ of the founder or the _father_ of the founder, no, that only came if you _were_ the founder.

"When my father finally died, it left Ben feeling resigned and forlorn. I was completely gleeful at this though; it seemed that Ben had lost all faith in finding the treasure, giving me plenty of time to casually continue searching for it without the constant nagging of _those two_ in my mind. As my son had moved out and the two of us slowly lost all contact with each other, I became more at peace, but little did I know that Ben had been given an excellent new 'sponsor' that had promised to cover all costs for any explorations involving the 'treasure.'"

Patrick took this moment to give a death glare in Ian's direction.

"He had also acquired a clever little volunteer on his team that proved to be a lot smarter than anyone on his own."

He swiveled his glare in Riley's direction who widened his blue eyes in guilt and fear.

"So it was no surprise that _I _was taken aback at the sight of Ben and his two friends on my doorstep that fateful night. I hoped to God it wasn't about the treasure. I hoped to God they hadn't gotten closer to finding what I had only been dreaming of before this blasted man was born. But, of course, my hopes were beaten down as I learned that Ben was indeed several steps closer to discovering the treasure. But the true rage and tearful fury I felt inside of me didn't completely show itself until the day they actually found it. In all honesty, yes, I was a little happy that it was finally found, but it just wouldn't do that it wasn't found by me myself! From that moment on, in that big, old church I vowed revenge on my son and everyone involved in the helping of killing my one dream: to find the treasure."

There was a silence as Patrick let the speech sink in. Riley's mind was buzzing with possibilities of what exactly this "revenge" entailed.

Patrick finally spoke after studying the two men's reactions. Ian's was set in stone with a hint of surprise in his eyes. Riley's was one of pure terror and anxiety. He smiled evilly, satisfied.

"Guards, take these two to the cells while we get things set up downstairs." He instructed to the two bulky men standing with rooted stares behind them. Patrick gave them a curt nod while walking away with two other nondescript henchmen.

Riley and Ian were wordlessly untied from the chairs only to find their newly freed wrists handcuffed. The guards placed firm hands on their shoulders and began to lead them out of the big, unremarkable room and into a dark hall outside the door.

The floor which Riley was forced into walking on was a black and grated which he had expected in the first place. Through the hundred of small rectangles which made it, Riley could see almost a dozen people rushing around, talking in a language Riley couldn't make out and typing furiously into computers Riley began to wonder about. Was this treasure all that Patrick was up to? Could the treasure really be _this_ big? The way Patrick would go through all this trouble to get Ian and him in the mix, Riley had little doubt.

After taking a few turns and receiving a few curious stares from passing workers, Ian and Riley were being led down a set of metal stairs. It took about three minutes to go down but Riley wished the whole way he could have his hands free to give him a semblance of stability. Once they made it down, they found themselves in a corridor dimly lit by the cheap overhead lights and lined with bars and indentions where the doors to the cells separated. Riley turned his head as they passed one, two, six cells, actually spotting a couple of prisoners in the first one on the right. Unfortunately, this meant that they were six cells away from any communication about this place as the guard leading Ian took out his keys to open the sixth barred door.

The man slid the door open and the other guard crudely pushed the two hostages in. Ian stumbled a little while Riley fell face first on the floor.

"Ow," He muttered from the ground as the guards began to uncuff him and Ian. Once done, they exited, grumbling insults on their way out about the two prisoners. Ian could hear them laugh and holler as they began their descent up the stairs.

Riley turned over from his position on the floor and sat up, massaging his bind-free wrists. He looked up at Ian who was staring blankly out the cell into the other across from theirs.

"What are we going to do now?" Riley asked him as he got up and walked over to the metal bars, mimicking the position Ian stood in. The older man turned to him; his features were distorted into that of pain and worry. Riley returned the look with a confused expression before casting his eyes to the wound that Ian was grabbing at.

"Oh my god, the scarf didn't help it." It was a statement not a question.

Ian shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid all that tying up of my hands gave the injury a bit too much wear and tear." Ian said, beginning to sweat from the dull ache of the hurt.

Riley helped Ian sit against the wall of the jail that didn't consist of only bars. After kneeling down beside him he removed his hoodie. The young man was beginning to sweat himself because-surprise, surprise-there wasn't much ventilation in the miniature prison.

"Breathe, Ian, stay with me," Riley said when he noticed the catch in the man's breath and the way his eyelids fluttered for a moment.

"The bullet…" Ian slurred, tempted to lose consciousness. "It needs to be removed. Poison, infection…"

"Yeah, yah, I know," Riley said hastily. "I've seen some shows but… they usually have sterile supplies and gauze. I've got nothing, Ian, I have nothing." Great, not only did he feel completely helpless, but now he was pretty sure an asthma attack was coming on. (He hadn't had one of those since the eighth grade.)

"Riley," Ian said, clasping the young man's shoulder with his good hand and trying to give him a hard look. "Don't panic. You can do this. You've found the biggest bloody treasure ever; you can take out this bullet. I have faith in you."

Riley looked into Ian's sincere eyes and couldn't help the spur of optimism he got from them. He nodded and took a deep breath.

"Okay." Riley replied, turning his attention to the wound. "I suppose I'll have to see the wound first so I'm going to ask you to unbutton your shirt."

Ian gave him a stare that read "You're kidding, right?"

"Oh, right, never mind, I'll do it." Riley gave a small sheepish smile before unbuttoning the first five buttons and revealing Ian's toned and tanned chest. Riley was beginning to feel awkward about the whole procedure but he quickly shoved that notion out of his head and set his mind to the task: He had to keep Ian alive.

The young man took hold of the shirt and slid it down Ian's shoulder, exposing the nasty wound beneath. He resisted wincing while looking at it, knowing that inkling wouldn't be entirely encouraging for Ian if he saw his expression.

Riley squirted a good amount of hand sanitizer that he had in his jacket on his hands and the wound. Ian hissed through his clenched teeth, regaining a new bout of consciousness from the sting.

A good hour later, after much grunting, groaning, and yelling, Riley had successfully removed the lodged metal bullet from the man's shoulder, leaving him now with a nicely flowing blood fountain.

"Geez, there's so much blood!" Riley said, feeling light-headed and desperate as he tried to hold the soiled sash against the man's shoulder. It wasn't helping; it didn't give the proper pressure he needed. Ian wasn't there to give him much of a pep talk this time as he just lay there, completely delirious.

Riley continued to think up some way to stop the constant gush. Right then, he would've killed for a long strip of gauze…

_That's it! _Riley thought to himself, suddenly struck with the idea. He looked down at his own arm wound and began ripping off the bandage currently wrapped around it. The deep cut underneath it hadn't changed much since the last time he looked at it: Still hideous and still having the chance of getting contamination. He drove that thought from his head though as he quickly unraveled the long piece of gauze.

The cut beneath the dressing wasn't bleeding nearly as bad as Ian's. Riley peeled the last of it off, turned it over on the (hopefully) clean side, and started work on wrapping it around Ian's shoulder. Having to elevate Ian's arm up brought Ian's back to the land of the living in a most unpleasant way. He let out an unintentional yell at the sudden pain, making Riley wince in guilt and fear. He didn't want to do this but he knew it was necessary. Riley propped up the arm on his bent knee and took hold of the gauze with his cleaned hands.

He stuck one end under Ian's armpit and began wrapping it snugly around the bleeding wound until he reached the end of the bandage. Thankfully, once done, the gauze covered the whole of the injury and more. A spot of red was slowly forming beneath it, but it stopped after it reached a diameter of two inches, causing Riley to let out a breath.

"Thank God."

"Excuse me, do you need help?" Riley could hear a voice calling from outside of his cell. He looked away from Ian and outside his cage door in interest. The voice sounded oddly familiar.

"My wife and I heard some one yelling and we're wondering if you're in any trouble." The voice called out again.

That was Ben! Riley's eyes lit up in shock.

"B-Ben?" Riley asked hopefully, straining his ears for his friend's voice again.

"Riley?" The voice questioned.

XxxxXXXxxxX

A/N: Yes, I know I do a terrible "Patrick Gates" but he doesn't exactly have any _distinguishing_ character traits that I could write here (besides being evil an'all). Anywho, yes, I left you with another cliffhanger ending. I don't know why I don't leave you at a good spot so my terribly long update periods are a little better to handle but, yeah, it's just more fun like this.

Ah, writers and their torture. They never seem to get enough of it.

If you have any ideas for the next chapter, feel free to tell me. I'm thinking the next one might be the last. So review now or it might never come! .

-Sarah


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Blah, blah, I know I know, I'm full of crap. I keep making empty promises about fast updates only to leave you guys wondering:

"What the heck is Strangest Things and why did I all of a sudden get an alert for it? It must be really old!"

Yes. It is quite old. This is my sixth month into it actually. God, I'm terrible. It's half a year old. I'm a pathetically busy person!

Ah well, no sense whining about it now though. I just want to say thank you to everybody who has faithfully reviewed my story. You guys are truly the best.

XxxxXXXxxxX

"Oh my god, Ben!" Riley couldn't believe it. He'd almost lost all hope that his friend was even alive after the long speech about "revenge" Ben's father had told him not too long ago. "We actually found you. This is amazing!"

"Um, Riley, what-" Ben seemed to be struggling for words. "Why are you in a cell if you've found me?"

"Oh…" Riley hoped Ben couldn't hear the guilt in his voice. He stared into the empty cell across from him as if Ben were in it while he spoke. "That's a good question but the answer is just a really long, long story. So, to make it short: Ian and I were taken here after we discovered the last clue."

"So… I take it you heard the vindictive monologue he told Abigail and myself?" Ben inquired uncomfortably.

"Yah…" Riley said remorsefully. This had to suck for Ben. Here he thought he at least had his father to count on only to have that blown up in his face. If Riley were in the same position with his father, who he didn't exactly have much contact with in the first place, he would bawl like a baby for weeks. "I'm, uh, really sorry about your dad, Ben." Riley consoled softly.

"Yeah," Ben said in a sad tone. A minute passed as both men became caught up in their thoughts only to be broken again. "How's Ian? I'm assuming since you're the one talking, he's the one that was yelling."

Riley affirmed Ben's assumption and stared back disdainfully at Ian. The man still sat hunched against the gray-stoned wall, his hair was strewn in every which direction across his face from the abundance of lolling his head had done in his delirium. A heavy sheen of sweat could be seen on all exposed portions of the man's skin and his breathing had slowed to a ragged and labored inhale-exhale. It was obvious that he had fallen unconscious now, and this strangely made Riley feel relieved. He knew it was bad to lose consciousness from excruciating pain and blood loss but it was far more distressing to hear the cries of anguish Ian emitted earlier.

"How's he looking?" Ben questioned further.

"Um, he's going to be all right but, he's unconscious right now so he might not be of much use to us at the moment."

Riley could hear Ben sigh in disappointment.

"Why, what's wrong? Did you need to talk to him?" Riley asked.

"Yes." Ben admitted. "I wanted to discuss ways of breaking out of here. You know, since," He took a moment to clear his throat, "that appears to be one of his 'trades'… But I can't very well do that when he's knocked out."

This time Riley sighed.

"Wish I could help, but I have a feeling Ian wouldn't be too keen on me slapping him into consciousness."

Riley heard Ben affirm this and they both thought silently for the second time since their meeting.

"Wait a moment!" Ben said, his voice coated in revelation and hope. Riley could hear the hasty scuffling of Ben's clothes as if the man were searching for something -What, Riley hadn't the foggiest idea.

"What?" Riley said in the impatient tone he used specially-and quite often- for his older, vaguer friend.

"Here it is," Ben mumbled, stabbing at Riley's patience yet again. "It's smelling salts- I lifted it off one of the guards when they knocked Abi unconscious."

Wait. "Huh?" Riley replied. It suddenly occurred to him that the "mean, Declaration lady" hadn't spoken up at all since their reunion. Riley inwardly cringed at his horrible deduction skills. He could hear Ian's unmistakable voice float through his head. _"Can't even notice when a loudmouth isn't present. Pathetic."_

"Don't ask me. I don't know what went on." Ben said. "When I woke up, she was unconscious."

"Ben, c'mon, this is _Abi_ we're talking about" Riley started realistically. "She could do a number of things to tick anybody off. For one, her voice. Have you heard it recent-..." It was uncanny how Riley could feel Ben's eyes boring into him through four, two foot thick walls. "And, I'm not helping…"

"For some reason," Ben continued, a hint of agitation in his voice that caused Riley to purse his lips sheepishly. "I didn't get a chance to use the salts on her because they put her in a different place."

"Where?" Riley inquired.

"Your guess is as good as mine…" Ben said. "On the bright side, this place isn't as big as it seems. It's an old 18th century Libyan warehouse, roughly the size of your average day supermarket with the exception of its four floors."

Riley didn't know what Ben was talking about, but that seemed a tad on the "big" side to him.

"Are we talking a Wal-Mart or a Safeway?" Riley asked, even though he knew Ben never bothered to answer his seemingly "childish" questions.

"I'm going to roll the smelling salts; be ready to catch them." Ben instructed.

Riley snaked his hand through the bars, pressing his body close enough to see Ben's own hand with a small, brown bottle in his fingers.

"Here you go," Ben mumbled, rolling the bottle hard enough to make sure it didn't come short. Riley made a barrier with his hand on the floor before catching the bottle in it.

"Got it." Riley said _Yeah, score one for the Riley sport record._ He got up from his awkward position on the floor and brought it over to the lifeless, blonde man. "C'mon, let's see if this works." Riley unscrewed the cap after he took a breath as not to inhale the stuff. The young man wasn't entirely sure on how to use the stuff or what effects it might hold for already conscious beings so he didn't want to take any chances. He wafted it in front of Ian's nose, waiting for the man to arouse from his slumber.

Ben was anxious to talk to Ian but the only thing he could hear from his cell was Riley pleading with the man to wake. Another sound entered Ben's territory and to his horror it was footsteps. Ben craned his head to see a man enter from the door at the end of the hall heading straight towards Riley's cell.

Riley evidently couldn't hear the guard, and his steps only grew quieter as the young man's pleading for Ian to awaken grew louder. Ben tried as quietly as he could to alert Riley but it was to no avail once Ben heard the gruff. "What _are_ you doing?"

Riley spun around, detecting for the first man the built, dark man's presence standing in the open _doorway_ of his cell. As if it would help anything, Riley placed the cap back on the bottle and slipped it in his pocket.

The man stepped closer and Riley stepped back, taking note that he was now on Ian's booted foot. "Where did you get that?" He asked, gesturing at Riley's pocket. At that moment motioning, Riley saw what just they needed to finally make it out of this place: the keys! It was a prefect escape plan and the ring of metal solutions hung nice and loose out of the man's pocket.

The question was: Was Riley really willing to break his head to free them? Sitting on still unconscious Ian's foot, Riley told himself yes, swiftly picked the keys out of the man's pocket, and threw them outside the cell bars towards Ben's cage.

"Ben, grab- ek!" It would've been quite the courageous command were it not interrupted by the man seizing Riley's shirt collar and rudely throwing him up against the wall, strangling him.

Riley was so full of questions at that point he couldn't discern if it was _that_ which was beginning to slowly cloud his mind or the fact that he was being deprived of oxygen by the bigger man choking him. Did Ben get the keys? Is he coming to my rescue? What about Ian? If he doesn't wake up, what will that mean?

Tears were welling up in Riley's eyes now as the man started knocking him against the wall, spitting out nondescript slurs, while still holding the firm grasp around his neck.

He was a goner. Riley had no doubt. Death was a painful, painful thing- Not that he expected anything less of the passing away process. It was just disconcerting that he was to be _murdered_ in his final moments. His vision was blurring but if he wasn't mistaken, he would say that the man's expression had tightened into one of pain. This confused Riley but the darkness that was gradually overtaking him was so inviting he decided to just give-…

XxxxXXXxxxX

The blackness dawned into lightness with a sort of blue tinge. Riley blinked his eyes slowly, willing the blob in front of him to turn into something more distinct. It wasn't working so Riley turned to the darkness again since it was far more comfortable than all this light.

"No, Riley, get up." A voice said forcefully, making Riley's aching head thump louder.

"Sssshhhsss…" Riley settled on saying through his slack jaw.

"No, wake up. I'm not going to stop talking until you open your eyes." The voice said again, louder this time, closer to his _ear_ rather than Alaska where Riley preferred it.

"Oh God, I'm in hell." Riley mumbled, feeling morbidly sorrowful now. Here he thought the week he had spent at Summer Bible School would've done something!

"Riley…" That voice. It was agitated, accented, and Ian's! Riley's eyes flew open, making him recoil at the sudden light change. He didn't care though because Ian's face was right there in place of what Riley dreaded would be the Devil's!

"Ian…" Riley said contently, smile-wincing. His throat felt like it had just been karate chopped. The words had clanked up his jagged throat and shot out of his mouth in a heap of incoherent sludge. "Water?" Riley asked hopefully in something not unlike a whisper.

"Hang on," Ian said. He moved from Riley's side in search of a water bottle. Riley followed his motion path and saw Ian frisk his supposed murderer for water. He successfully drew one out from the inert guard's cargo pocket.

Ian walked back over with the water in hand, setting it down to sit Riley up in a vertical position.

"Dead?" Riley said, looking Ian blearily in the eyes, his head feeling much too heavy for his neck at that point.

Ian didn't answer and Riley took that as a yes. He sat there, leaning his hundred pound heavier noggin against the stone wall. He winced as he forgot about the bruises that had formed from the severe knocking done shortly before.-At least he thought it was shortly before… How long had he been out?

Ben answered the question by rushing to their ajar cell door, explaining how the keys thrown were hard to get to. _Ooo, score none for the Riley sport record. _

"Oh my god," Ben said, looking down at Riley. Ian sat crouched in front of the dazed young man, putting a supporting hand on the back of his neck to keep his head from falling against the wall. "Is he alright?" Ben asked concernedly, kneeling down on Riley's other side, picking up the water bottle while at it.

"He will be. After we get him-well, all of us- to a respectable hospital." Ian said, accepting the water bottle and putting it against Riley's lips. Riley sipped the cooling, throat-straightening elixir until he coughed up a lot of it onto his shirt.

"Okay," Ian said, replacing the cap back onto the bottle (making Riley mentally whimper). "Let's get you standing so we can get out of here."

It took a few minutes, but, in the end, Riley finally got his head on straight and was standing. His throat and head still hurt like nobody's business and Riley was willing to bet that there was something terribly wrong with both. Oh god, what he would give for a simple visit to a doctor. Heck, he would bet his car for a single night's stay on a floor -any floor- of a hospital.

"We need to get moving." Ian said. "This business has lost us too much time. These people are obviously going to notice that their man hasn't returned from whatever dealing he was doing down here."

"How do you propose we're going to do that?" Ben replied, his hands on his hips, looking down at Ian who was searching the rest of the pockets of the guard. So far he had managed to pull off a pocket knife, gun, and cell phone.

"One of those will come in handy." Riley mumbled from his position Ben and Ian had left him against the wall.

"We need to get Abi back, Ian." Ben said. "I'm not leaving her."

Ian stopped his search of the dead man's pants to rub the bridge of his nose. He got up slowly and spoke.

"Ben," He began, setting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I realize Abi is very important to you, but there are more _pressing_ matters at hand." Ian said, emphasizing "pressing" with a gesture to their three battered excuses for bodies. "We are all in need of medical attention. I've been shot, Riley's been put through all sorts of misery, and this has been a physical nightmare for you. Abi can be easily be rescued with the right assistance from authorities-"

Ben startled the two other men both by pinning Ian roughly against the wall.

"You," Ben said, there was a fierceness in his eyes and a menace in his voice Riley was positive had never been there _ever_ before. "You're still a sadistic, rotten criminal. You don't care about anything except for your self. I don't know why I asked you for help when you've done **nothing** except get caught up in the same mess I did. And you brought Riley into it too!"

Ian's face was stone hard, not even flinching as the hurtful words turned into angry roars. Riley was between wondering if Ian even heard them and how those very words came out of Ben's mouth.

"C'mon, Riley," Ben said, releasing Ian and straightening up. "Were finding Abi and leaving."

Riley began doing what he was told since he was in too much pain to think up other options when Ian pulled the gun out, pointing it directly at Ben's head. The man stopped in mid-death-glare to contort his face into a genuinely shocked expression.

"No, Riley's coming with me." Ian said firmly.

Ben's expression turned into the creepiest one yet (in Riley's opinion) when he smiled slightly and laughed.

"Uh, no, he's not. We're finding Abi, and we're getting out of here."

"He doesn't need you wasting his time finding Abi when he could very well be in a hospital by the time you get _captured_ again." Ian retorted, causing Ben's face to darken angrily.

"I am Riley's_ friend_. I am not the one who tried to _kill_ him. _I_ have his best interests in mind."

"You obviously don't when you're so prepared to risk his life instead of save it."

At this point, it turned into a shouting fight full of words that shouldn't be said and gestures that shouldn't be done. Riley was at a loss of what to do. Eventually they would stop arguing and make him choose between the two. _Best friend, savior, best friend, savior… _It would be easier for Riley to sneak out and find Abi himself, which, by the way, is just what Riley settled on.

It's amazing what you can get away with in a cramped cell when two grown men are fighting. Completely enamored with their argument, Ian and Ben paid no heed to the shorter figure making a run for it out of the cell and up the stairs.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Riley paused his hasty dash up the stairs at the sighting of the first door. He knew it was a stretch to check if Abi was somewhere locked away through this one but he stealthily crept in anyway.

Inside was what anyone might expect of your average villain's lair: The welding sparks coming from nowhere, the grated floor, all workers dressed in tough-looking uniforms, grunting at each other, a nerdy scientist bee lining your walkway –Yep, there was no doubt about it that they had a mad scientist performing all interior design.

"What now?" Riley asked, trying desperately to find a saving solution while attempting to hide his sore-thumbiness in the shadows.

A large man was making his way towards them, his boots stomping heavily against the floor. He had a walkie talkie held to his ear then against his mouth, pressing the button on the side of the device to speak.

"What do you mean the prisoners escaped?" He exclaimed to Riley's great displeasure. "The boss is not going to like this. I want the whole area on lockdown. No one escapes. You search everywhere."

The young man's eyes widened and he quickly opened the nearest door and stepped inside. He shut it with a sharp snap and breathed a large sigh of relief, leaning against the door. He looked up from his hyperventilating to search his surroundings. As luck would have it, he spotted a perfect disguise hanging from a wooden coat hanger.

Although most would go for beating up the nearest guard, stripping him of his uniform (gun included), and tying them up in a conveniently placed broom closet, Riley's physical stature was proof that no such heroic efforts would be made. So, as fate would have it, a white lab coat hung nicely from the wooden stand. Riley grabbed at it and slipped it on. Directly after, the previously spotted guard entered the room.

"State your business," the guard said to him. Obviously the geeks had the lower hand in this business.

Riley replied with babble about something technical that he assumed the man wouldn't understand. Fortunately, he didn't and nodded with a shut to the door. Again, Riley sighed; relief flooding his senses.

_Now to work: Where's Abi?_ Riley stepped out the door of the office since it proved to be useless in all cases with the exception of a good hiding place. He turned in both directions, wishing dearly for a map to be taped to a wall some where nearby.

He decided on quickly opening and closing each door- Nothing. Abi nor signs of prison cells were to be found.

He passed to intimidating men standing guard on a bolted door. _Must be important, whatever it is. _Riley thought to himself, trying not to look them in the beady, mean eyes. Riley stopped suddenly however, berating himself with mental "Stupid's"

"Hi, yes," Riley said, turning to them with a dorky smile. "I'm Dr. Werken- Wernilit-Um-Weneylit" The guards raised eyebrows at the supposed physician's reading ability. Riley looked up sheepishly from his lab coat's embroidered name badge. _I guess it was too much to ask of fate for an easier name! _"I, uh, took my wife's last name- She's Ukrainian."

The guards nodded knowingly at this statement.

"Yes, well, I need to check one of the prisoner's vitals. Make sure they're all right. You know, doctor stuff."

The two weren't to be fooled on this one though.

"Our commander told us no one was to come in here without expressed consent from him." The one on the left of the door said to him gruffly.

"It is a relief then that I got just that, huh?" Riley replied.

"Where is it?" The one on the right inquired this time.

"I'm telling you 'it.'"

"But I thought it had to be in writing-"

"No, no, no" Riley said with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand. "We don't need that stuff anymore. This is the 21st century. It's the coolest thing to send important verifications through the words of a geeky messenger; you know what I'm saying?"

"I guess." The man said; he didn't. Riley wasn't sure he knew what he was talking about either. Nonetheless, they let Riley pass.

They shut the door behind him and continued with their sentry duties. Riley examined the cell hall, finding it to be identical to the one he had escaped from not one hour ago. He hurriedly made his way, scanning each cell for the familiar blonde head of hair, looking back in paranoia at the door for intruders.

In one of the cells at the far end lay Abi. She was dressed in a flattering short-sleeved, red blouse and dark blue jeans with matching red sneakers. The outfit might've formerly been worthy of your latest fashion magazine but now, with so much wear and tear, it would hardly be accepted by the local thrift store.

"Abi, Abi!?" Riley stared in desperation at her unconscious form; her hair was strewn in every which direction upon her face. Riley seemed close to tears with his yelling when Abi opened her eyes. She supported herself on her elbows and turned to cock her head at him.

"Riley?" She asked.

"Please tell me you're surprised and not amnesic." Riley pleaded, wide eyed.

"Definitely the former," she replied, staring at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here with Ian, to rescue you, but we were captured and thrown into a cell where we found Ben-"

"Wait, you found Ben; is he okay?" she asked.

"Yes, yes, he's fine-At least I think…"

"Where are they anyway?"

"Um, er," He put on a serious voice. "Abi, this is a serious operation. That is a long story and we have little time to spare."

Abi choked back some laughter.

"Okay, James Bond." She said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Riley scowled at the fact that the woman still has the impudence to tease at _him_ when _he_ was rescuing _her_. "You're answering them later."

"Yeah, yeah," Riley said noncommittally. "How do I get you out of this cell?"

"Right, Riley, I know _that_ answer because I _like_ being locked up in here." Abi said mockingly.

"Okay, stop it with the cheek, _Abigail_. Trying to save you here."

"Oh right," Abi said, covering up a smile. "How'd you get out of your cell?"

Riley's mind flashed back to the beating he endured to help the three of them break out. He touched the lump that had formed on the back of his head.

"That's a long, painful answer that I do not wish to repeat." Riley said, thinking for other options. "Wait, you're a girl, got any bobby pins on you?" He had almost made the mistake of asking Ian for one last time but bit down hard on his tongue just in time.

"Yeah, actually." She said, picking one out of her hair and handing the piece to Riley. He jammed it into the cell's hole and fiddled with it. Nothing.

"Um, do you have any… experience in this sort of thing?" He asked sheepishly, handing the hair pin back to her.

"Thought you'd never asked." Abi answer with a smirk. She crooked her arm though the bars and started picking at the lock until it clicked with the sound of success. Riley opened the cell door completely and grabbed Abi's hand to help her up.

"Ah," she winced, once she set her right foot upon the floor. "I think my ankle's sprained. Ah, it hurts."

Riley reluctantly suggested he carry her on piggy back which she readily accepted. Once she was positioned, he started making their way towards the set of stairs similar to the one in his previous cell hold.

Upon arriving at the first landing, Riley found himself beat. The scrawny young man who had never set head or toe in a gym could only handle so much. He set Abi down who continued to berate him about his terrible physical energy.

"I mean, _Ben_ can at least get the groceries to and from the car." She ranted. "Speaking of which, you never answered my question about where he and Ian were."

To tell the truth, Riley didn't precisely know, but he explained to her the reason why he was the only one to come to her rescue.

"Ugh, men. They get so enamored with their arguing -especially the smart ones." Riley would've agreed with her is she hadn't ordered him to get off his butt and keep moving.

Riley was beginning to wonder why he bothered to liberate the nagging, Declaration lady.

XxxxXXXxxxX

"Why did you even come here, Ian!?" Ben yelled, a heated glare still set in stone upon his face. "You obviously had no intention of saving _any_ of us. So why, huh?"

"I came here to save you and Abi both. There was just the _small_ setback of being shot and everything!" Ian roared back with an identical expression. "It can all be fixed given that you let me take Riley to a hospital!"

"You're not taking Riley anywhere. How can I trust a man that got himself shot?"

"Easy, let me take Riley and we'll be on our way. You're just wasting his time, Gates, like you're wasting your wife's and, not to mention, mine!"

"I'm trying to actually save people, Ian. Your tactless conduct will only get Riley and yourself _killed_."

"You're not suggesting I go with you now, are you? Because, I'll pass."

"Never, Ian. I'm seeing you for what you've always been: selfish, insensitive, and callous."

"Let's just see what Riley has to say about this. Riley, who do you-" Ian stopped in mid-sentence to look around. Where was he?

"Where's Riley?" Ben said, scanning the area.

"I don't know. He was just here… I saw him… I think." Ian said, turning round.

In that instant, a shot rang out and the door the end of the cell hall immediately had both of the men's attentions. Coming down the stairs were five or six guards banging through the door, guns cocked and pointed down the hall.

"We have to go." Ian said intensely, taking out the gun he had lifted off the guard and readying it.

"Are you sure-" Ben had no chance to finish his question as he was seized by the arm and being dragged down the hall. Ian was firing shots at the unsuspecting guards, injuring two in the process.

"Billings is down, Tanner is down," some one shouted loudly as a flurry of shots rang out. Ian and Ben didn't stick around to hear the rest as they rushed up the stairs, never looking back.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Riley was literally heaving now as each step up the back stairwell was starting to take its toll.

"Make one jab about my weight and you'll be the one needing to be carried." Abi said, predicting what Riley was just about to do.

Riley wanted to just get out of here, that or find Ben and Ian, then he could pass Abi of to her adoring husband and Ian could carry him. Upon arriving at what seemed to be the final landing until reaching the roof door, it appeared Riley's latter wish was about to be granted- Just not in the way he would've liked.

Through the glass slot of the door, Riley could see Ben and Ian, hands bound and three guns pointed at them by guards a safe distance off. Patrick was pacing in front of the two and smiling smugly, seemingly lecturing the two on something or the other. _No doubt about the treasure, _Riley thought to himself.

It would've been easier, not to mention safer, for Riley to simply take the rest of the stairs to the roof, sneak down a fire escape and call the authorities from the outside. In all actuality, this is just what Riley was going to do. That is, until Patrick pulled a gun to Ian's head.

Riley's eyes widened in panic and he unthinkingly stormed through the door, setting Abi on the floor and yelling.

"The filthy rich fraternizer first!" Patrick had just managed to get out before looking up at utterly battered Riley and the limping Abi.

"Abi!" Ben cried happily at the sight of his wife still relatively intact.

"Shutup!" Patrick yelled.

"Don't kill them!" Riley shrieked when he saw the man readying his gun again.

"Hastings, apprehend him." Patrick ordered at the guard Riley had seen moments before. Riley was roughly grasped by the collar of his white coat and a hand was clasped over his mouth, muffling any and all of his pleas.

"Now," Patrick began, pointing the gun at Ian's head. "Where was I-"

The older man was once again interrupted by the urgent shout of his lackey's voice.

"What the heck?!" He said, pushing Riley to the floor. "I need a grenade pin! Hurry! The kid just pulled mine and threw it somewhere!"

"Johnson, you know what to do," Patrick said to a guard that stood beside him who nodded in response. He immediately shot the man named Hastings and following that was a bout of panic as every guard and scientist present made his hurried way out the nearest exit.

Ben and Ian had escaped their binds and the former rushed over to his limping wife.

"Are you okay?" he asked, placing her on his back in haste.

"Run!" she roared but he was already doing so.

Ian had already helped Riley up and the two were making their mad dash towards the exit. The grenade finally blew upon their reaching the early morning outside.

It was a massive explosion; at least, that's what it felt like to Riley. He never knew something as small as a grenade could have such a large impact on the room and the people previously in it. Debris large and small was flying in every which direction and everybody was thrust to the floor. Minutes later, the noise subsided, leaving a high-pitched ringing in the young man's ear.

Papers were fluttering to the floor and Riley also perceived some had died in the terrible detonation. He looked around further as he gathered his bearings in a clumsy manner. Ben and Abi could be seen a great distance off. Riley was positively overjoyed by this sight and was about skip over impulsively when he spotted Ian getting up not to far from him.

The blonde man had a large piece of glass stuck in his leg but, other than a few more bruises and cuts, he seemed fine. What really caught Riley's attention was Patrick, sitting in a large white truck and glaring hatefully at Ian. He was revving up the engine, and Riley was more than positive he knew what Patrick intended to do now.

Riley's sprint towards Ian's unsuspecting form began with the screech of acceleration emitted from the van. Riley was putting every ounce of energy he had left to save Ian. He was yelling words to Ian but the man only looked up time for Riley shove him out of the way of the van's blunt power.

The impact of the van going a full-fledged 30 miles had Riley soaring through the air and colliding with a wall a short distance off. He fell to the floor, groaning in intense pain. Blood was making a neat puddle around him- from where on his body, Riley wasn't sure, for he had numerous amounts of pain in numerous sections of his body.

The van had squealed to a halt and Patrick watched in shock as Riley lay there motionless just before being slammed with the brute force of another van-Phillip's van. Patrick would definitely not live to tell the tale of such a crash as it was the driver's side that was hit and Riley wondered why Phillip hadn't come sooner-Preferably before Riley had just been rammed by the speeding vehicle.

The last thing the young man could remember before blacking out was Ian rushing over with a wholly concerned look on his face.

XxxxXXXxxxX

**The End.** (Nah, I'm just messing with you.)

The slow beeps of the heart monitor aroused Riley to his senses. He blinked his eyes open, attempting to focus on the room in front of his elevated head rest. Things cleared up but his mind was still foggy.

"It's the drugs." Riley heard a familiarly accented voice announce to the right of his bed. Of course it was Ian, but where were they? He moved to turn his head, but, with the exception of his eyeballs, no such movement would be possible.

"Am I-" Riley's voice was raspy and those two words tasted terrible on his sandpaper-like tongue. A straw was placed in his mouth and Riley sipped at the drink before it was taken away a few seconds later. He continued his previous question now that he felt able. "Am I paralyzed?"

Ian's chuckle was unnerving.

"No, no," Ian said to Riley's total relief. "Well, you could've been, but the amount of surgery you've gone through the past eight days has taken care of that."

_Eight days?_ Despite that new revelation, Riley felt like crying. He was in a hospital. It was all over. No more chases, no more beatings, no more deaths. He could just sit back and be drugged for the rest of his life.

"Riley, are you crying?" Riley could hear Abi ask as she and Ben entered his hospital room. Riley felt the tears falling down his cheeks and simply nodded. He didn't care who saw it.

Abi sat down on his bed and grabbed one of his scarred up hands while Ben sat on a chair to the left.

"I'm just happy that you're all okay." He said. God, he was sounding pathetic. He wasn't known to be Mr. Macho Man but, seriously! This statement only made Abi's own eyes well up with tears. She smiled sadly, brushing his messy bangs out of his eyes.

"Thanks to you," Ben said from his side of the bed, nudging at Riley's arm. "You did some quick thinking grabbing that man's grenade pin. We're only here because of you, Riley."

"And you literally saved my hide with that car jaunt." Ian said, with a poignant smirk. His eyes were glistening-which was as close as it would get to tears. "Thank you. I'm going to kick your _butt_ for pulling that stunt, but, thank you, Riley. I owe you everything."

Riley was speechless. He wished he'd brought a tape recorder along with him so he could play all of these handsome compliments when he was feeling down, but he really didn't know how to reply to any of it.

"Thank… You?" He said. His throat was tight with emotion at that moment but he couldn't muster much else. "Could you guys, possibly tell me this when I'm not on morphine?"

Everybody laughed in spite of themselves yet agreed that this probably wasn't the best time to congratulate some one when they were probably too high to remember anything. Everyone left with their tokens of appreciation for Riley's truly heroic efforts: Ben with a ruffle to his hair, Abi with a kiss on his cheek, and, to Riley's complete surprise, Ian with an embrace.

The blonde man pulled apart from the hug and genuinely thanked Riley one last time before slowly leaving the room with the others, wishing him good dreams. Riley closed his eyes to ponder what had just happened in the past two weeks. It was easily the strangest one he'd ever lived through but he wouldn't trade for any other experience…

**Fin?**

XxxxXXXxxxX

**A/N:** Do you want an epilogue? I want an epilogue. But reviews will only make me do it! Seriously, I read over my old reviews to get encouragement for story writing. It's the only way it'll work for me! So review now to ensure a speedy update.

**Anonymous/Shadow Girl/ Whoever you are: **Get an account, or, if you already have one, log in. I always want to reply to your encouraging reviews in some way, shape, or form but I have no idea how. You've truly been one of my biggest fans and I really, truly appreciate that. Thanks for being there to pick me up when I got down on this story. Rest well knowing that some of this story was updated because of you!


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